


To Create a Masterpiece

by emynn (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, First Time, Fluff and Angst, HP: EWE, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new Dark Wizard who's been stealing the emotions of hundreds of victims has set Harry Potter as his ultimate target, which naturally means that Severus must once again step in to save the Chosen One. Severus expected to be able to step in and out of the assignment. But he should have realised that where Harry Potter and emotions are involved, nothing is ever that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Create a Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alisanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/gifts).



Severus Snape set down his tea and rubbed the bridge of his rather prodigious nose. It was barely past ten and he was already on his third cup, which did not bode well for the rest of the day. Still, at least it was Friday, and he could spend the next two days in peace. Hopefully.

It was a better life than he’d had before, he had to admit. For one, he was alive, with nobody actively trying to kill him. For another, there were no students.

After several long months of recovering from a near fatal snakebite and a speedy pardon from the Ministry (Harry Potter was good for something, it seemed), Severus had decided it was time to re-enter the work force. It wasn’t as if being a professor by day and double agent by night paid well enough to put away anything significant at Gringotts and, now that he had less of a target on his back, Severus intended to live for a very long time, if only to spite those who continued to insist he deserved to spend the rest of his days in a cell in Azkaban.

Hogwarts was, of course, out. Even if he enjoyed teaching, which he certainly had not, the school held too many painful memories for Severus to want to ever return. He then thought of opening his own shop, but he had a feeling customers could be even more irritating than students.

Severus had ended up here at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement merely by chance. He’d run into Potter, of all people, at the Three Broomsticks. Potter, despite Severus’ none-too-subtle clues he was not in the mood for conversation, had told him he was quitting his job as an Auror in hopes of finally having a quieter, more peaceful life, hidden away from the public eye. Then he mentioned there was a job opening up in his department.

“It’s more the strategy of the whole thing,” Potter had said. “Figuring out the criminals’ next moves, proactively mapping a defence plan, determining a course of action… apparently we’ve gotten a bit of a bad reputation for just plunging headfirst into danger. They’re looking for somebody to really whip the team into shape.”

It was perfect.

Severus would never say he loved any job, particularly one where he had to report to a superior, but he damn near came close to loving this job. It was fascinating work that stretched his mind, but he wasn’t required to put himself in immediate danger. He only had to have limited interaction with his colleagues. And best of all, telling a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears Aurors that they were imbeciles who’d get themselves killed if not for Severus’ influence was actually encouraged. 

Certainly, there were days he grew tired of dealing with imbeciles, and there were definitely days he felt as though something was missing. He grew tired of spending so much time hidden away in his office. Not to mention that his office, with its relentlessly flickering lighting the Magical Maintenance insisted was within code, drove him mad, especially when he heard the workers snicker about how Severus should be accustomed to the darkness, having lived in dungeons his entire life. 

Severus didn’t allow their attitudes to bother him though. He simply was diligent in slipping Flaccid Fluid in their tea every day.

Still, all in all, it was a good life. Far better that Severus ever anticipated having. 

A knock sounded at his door. The two-way mirror on his door revealed it was his assistant. “Enter.”

“Sir,” Finn Campbell said, entering the room. “The Minister is holding a briefing in ten minutes.”

“It’s Friday,” Severus frowned. “The Minister’s briefings are on Mondays.”

“Apparently it’s an emergency,” Campbell said, handing Severus a file. “Highly confidential. Only high-ranking personnel are attending.”

Severus nodded. “Weasley, Malfoy…”

“And Longbottom, sir.”

Severus rolled his eyes as he opened the file. That was another thing he hated about this job – the Department of Magical Law Enforcement apparently didn’t give a damn about allowing _children_ to hold senior leadership positions.

“The only thing in this file is the list of attendees and a meeting location,” Severus said.

“I told you, sir,” Campbell said. “Highly confidential.”

“Very well,” Severus said. “Cancel my afternoon meetings.” He downed the rest of his tea. “And another tea.”

“Yes, sir,” Campbell said, and left Severus’ office. 

Severus glanced over the file one more time before closing it. He could already see his peaceful weekend flittering away into the sunset.

~*~

Severus was the last to arrive to the briefing. Weasley, unfortunately for him, was in Severus’ usual chair. A quick glare from Severus had Weasley moving to another seat with only minimal grumbling. Severus was confident he’d have Weasley trained soon enough.

“Now that Snape’s here, let’s begin,” Shacklebolt said. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid there is a rather serious threat looming, and I’ll need all of your full efforts on the matter. Until you hear otherwise, this should be your top priority.”

Severus straightened in his seat. Forget about his weekend; with his luck (and with Weasley heading the Aurors), he’d be spending his entire _month_ locked away in his dimly-lit office. 

“We’ve reserved word that there is a credible threat in the form of a rising Dark Wizard.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “We receive word of rising Dark Wizards every other week, all of whom piss their pants the second they’re faced with a single gangly-kneed Auror.”

“I’m afraid this goes beyond that, Snape,” Shacklebolt said. “Weasley, would you mind sharing your report?”

“There’s been an overall increase in violence in the past month,” Weasley said. He stood and conjured a map of Great Britain, circling key points with his wand. “We’ve traced the origin to Cardiff, but within a week of what we’ve determined to be the first attack, the violence had spread to Bristol, and Oxford after that. Yesterday there was an attack in London. This is significant because before the attacks were in secluded areas outside of town and were able to go largely unnoticed. Our perpetrator is growing bolder.”

Severus frowned. “What types of attacks?”

“The common element is fire,” Weasley said. “The initial attack was originally dismissed as a common house fire. The owners of the home were elderly and known to light candles late at night. However, within an hour we were able to determine it was actually a case of magical arson.”

“Within an hour? I’m shocked. Your team is finally up to speed,” Severus said drily. Ignoring Weasley’s glare, he took out a piece of parchment and began taking notes. “So we have an arsonist on our hands. How did we make the leap to this being the work of a Dark Wizard and not simply a reckless teenager?”

“Other than the fact that as soon as the last flames had extinguished, there was no sign there had even been a fire at all? The buildings still stand, utterly immaculate, the land is singe-free. All that’s missing are the people.” Shacklebolt said. 

“Ah, so less a case of an efficient investigation and more just glaringly obvious evidence. Suddenly it all makes sense.”

 

“Snape,” Shacklebolt said in an admonishing tone. He turned to Longbottom. “Longbottom, perhaps you should speak next.” 

“Our culprit has a calling card,” Longbottom said, opening a wooden box Severus just noticed sitting on the table in front of him. With a wave of Longbottom’s wand, a clear glass cube floated in the air above them. Inside was a glistening, golden apple. “One of these apples has been left behind at each of the fires.”

Severus reached for the spectacles he kept in his robes. He hated wearing them in front of anybody, but this apple called for closer examination. “It’s golden, but doesn’t appear to be metallic. Somebody could bite right into it.”

“They could,” Longbottom agreed. “However, when it comes in contact with human flesh, the fruit becomes scalding to touch. My theory is the flames do not simply vanish, but rather condense to form this apple.”

“Anything else to note?” Severus asked. 

“I believe we should call in the patient now, Minister,” Draco said. When Shacklebolt nodded, Draco moved to open the door, drawing somebody in by the wrist.

Severus frowned as the patient approached. She was an Auror, Helen Sparrow or Nightingale or some other type of bird. She wasn’t the worst of the Aurors Severus had to work with, but she was certainly nothing exceptional.

Except for now, as she stood, nearly unblinking, in the front of the room. Other than a bandaged hand, she didn’t appear to be physically injured, but her eyes were dead and her face completely expressionless.

“This is Helen Bullfinch,” Draco said. “Before yesterday, she was a perfectly healthy, athletic Auror. She was stationed in London and was among the first at the scene of the fire.”

“She looks as though a Dementor got to her,” Severus said. 

“Not a Dementor,” Longbottom said. “She touched the apple. She was found with a third-degree burn on the palm of her hand.”

“And now she’s catatonic?”

“Not quite,” Draco said. “I had her subdued until we determine a better approach to dealing with her symptoms. Watch.” He waved his wand in front of Bullfinch’s face. She shuddered, and then her eyes began darting wildly around the room.

“My creator,” she said, her voice panicked. “Where is my creator?”

“She’s desperate to find her creator,” Draco said. “It is the only time she expresses any emotion. Watch.” He turned to Bullfinch and gently but firmly held her head in his hands. “What is your name?”

Bullfinch froze. “Helen Catherine Bullfinch,” she said, her voice monotone.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No. I only want my creator.” Her gaze once again grew manic. “Where is he? My creator?” She tore away from Malfoy’s grasp and bolted for the door. “My creator!” she screamed, tugging at the door. “My creator!”

Draco pointed his wand at her, and she again shuddered before going limp. He caught her before she fell. “One moment,” he said, and escorted her out of the room.

Severus looked down at his parchment. “I’m willing to concede we have a Dark Wizard on our hands,” he said.

“So good of you,” Shacklebolt said dryly. 

“Weasley and Longbottom, I’d like to see your reports,” Severus said. As Draco re-entered the room, he added, “You as well, Malfoy. Everything you know, on my desk by the end of the day. Minister? Any other details? Do we have any idea as to the identity of this so-called creator?”

“No clues as to his identity or his motivations,” Shacklebolt said. “But we do know his eventual main target.”

Weasley frowned. “I wasn’t made aware of this.”

“Head Aurors don’t know _everything_ , Weasley,” Severus smirked.

Weasley glared at him but didn’t say anything. Severus was slightly disappointed. “Minister?” Weasley asked.

“I only received word this morning,” Shacklebolt said. “Auror Walters finished her investigation of the attack in Bristol this Tuesday. Apparently this time there was a message on the wall.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Typical arrogant fledgling Dark Wizard act, purposely leaving behind traces of himself. Well, what was the message?”

“It simply said ‘I bring light. My Creations burn, but Harry Potter is my masterpiece. He will set the world on fire.’ It was signed ‘The Creator.’”

The reaction in the room was predictable. Weasley started shouting and banging things about, Longbottom frowned and paced around the room, asking questions, and Draco leaned back in his chair, a smirk upon his face. As for himself, Severus was resisting the urge to bang his head against the table and wonder why, once again, he’d be forced to prevent a madman from killing Potter.

“Silence!” Shacklebolt demanded. “Now, this is hardly surprising. Potter is a frequent target of Dark Wizards.”

“Yeah, but this one’s actually dangerous,” Weasley said. “When are you bringing Harry in?”

“And why, precisely, would we bring Potter in?” Severus asked. “He’s no longer Head Auror. A fact you should know, given it’s the way you were able to obtain your current position.”

Weasley’s eyes blazed. “Maybe because his life’s on the line and he should know about it?” 

“Typical Auror, thinking with his heart instead of his head,” Severus said. “Allow us to ignore the fact that it is not, and never has been, protocol to give potential targets such sensitive details so early in an investigation. Tell me, Weasley. What exactly do you think Potter will do when you tell him? Quietly come to the Ministry and sit tight until we manage to dispose of this lunatic?”

“Snape does have a point,” Shacklebolt said. “While Potter may be more high-profile than other potential targets, that doesn’t mean we should be informing him of every detail of the investigation. It would hold the same risks as if we had informed the public of every threat we received, perhaps even more. You know as well as I the second we tell Potter about this, he’s going to want to go hunting after this Dark Wizard himself.”

“Harry’s perfectly capable,” Weasley insisted. “He’d likely find this creator before any of us do.”

“And possibly get himself killed in the process,” Shacklebolt said. “Potter’s gotten by on a lot of sheer luck over the years. We can’t count on it to last forever. And now that he’s no longer on the force, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

“You really expect me to not tell my best friend there’s a Dark Wizard looking to kill him?” Weasley asked.

“I’m completely confident that our team, under your command, will be able to eradicate this threat swiftly,” Shacklebolt said. “It won’t be a secret for long.”

“But… Neville! You can’t agree with this.”

Longbottom sighed. “Actually, Ron… I think maybe they’re right.” Over Weasley’s squawking, he continued. “You know how exhausted Harry was by the time he quit. He was completely burnt out. He wants to be done with this lifestyle, and I can’t say I blame him. He’s finally found some peace in his life. I’d hate to ruin that.”

“By keeping him ignorant of a threat?” Weasley asked. 

“Well, this is assuming we can arrest the Creator quickly,” Longbottom said. “Obviously if this drags out, we may have to reassess. But in the meantime… if we can do this without involving Harry, I think we owe it to him to do so. He’s done enough hunting and killing in his lifetime.”

“But what if this madman goes after him?” Weasley asked. “We’re just going to let him be entirely unprepared?”

“We’ll send somebody to protect him, just as we always do in all cases such as these,” Shacklebolt said. “Potter won’t realise it, of course.”

“Well, I can do it,” Weasley said immediately. “Somebody will just have to take over my main duties. Auror Greene has been doing remarkably well.”

“No,” Severus said. “You won’t do. You have all the subtlety of an Erumpet in a china shop. Potter will have the secret out of you within an hour.”

“Well, then Neville,” Weasley said. “He can pull it off.”

“No,” Severus said. “He doesn’t have the proper training. It will have to be me.”

“ _You_?” Weasley exclaimed. “Come on! You can’t expect me to believe that _Harry_ isn’t going to think something’s up when you suddenly start spending time with him. Even _Malfoy_ would be better.”

“Malfoy is engaged,” Severus said. “It wouldn’t be believable.”

Weasley blinked. “Do you mean to tell me you’re planning to _seduce_ him?”

“I’m not _planning_ to,” Severus said. “But when going in to such an assignment, it’s best to have as many weapons in one’s arsenal as possible.”

“Minister!” Weasley said. “Are you listening to this? You can’t let this happen.”

“Snape is a professional,” Shacklebolt said, casting a warning look at Severus. Severus refused to cower. “He wouldn’t abuse his position.”

“And Harry is my best friend! I won’t have Snape hurt him.”

Severus snorted. “I hardly think Potter is going to fall head over heels for me.”

Weasley’s face turned red and he crossed his arms, glaring at everybody in the room.

“I believe we have a preliminary plan in place,” Shacklebolt said. “Weasley, Longbottom, and Malfoy, please turn in your full reports to Snape immediately. Snape, I’d like to meet with you after lunch to discuss this in more detail. Speak with my assistant on your way out. Tell her she can cancel any of my meetings this afternoon to make room for it. You’re dismissed.”

Severus stood, ignoring the stares coming his way.

It looked like once again he’d be saving Harry Potter’s hide. And, once again, the little brat wouldn’t even know it.

~*~

Potter was sitting at a table in the far corner of the Three Broomsticks nursing a pint of ale, just as Weasley promised he would be. Not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, Severus headed straight for the table.

“Potter,” he said. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Snape!” Potter said, jumping in his seat. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a long week. I thought I’d stop by for a drink,” Snape said, slipping into the chair across from Potter. “May I join you?”

“Um, sure,” Potter said. “Ron’s supposed to be here, but it looks like he’s running late.”

“Hardly surprising,” Snape said. 

Potter smiled. “Yeah, Ron’s a lot of things, but punctual isn’t one of them. Especially not ever since he took over the Head Auror job.”

Ah, there it was – Severus’ in. Not that he would have admitted it to anyone, but he was worried he wouldn’t be able to find a natural line of conversation to broach with Potter. This would accomplish the task well enough. 

“Do you miss it?” Severus asked. “You were always one for action and adventure. I imagine your life would be quite dull without all that running about after villains and thieves.”

“I thought I might, but I don’t,” Potter said. “Not really. Sure, I was fighting to make the world a better place, but at the end of the day, I was still fighting, you know? There was still a lot of blood on my hands. There’s only so much of that I can take.”

Severus nodded. “And what do you do now? Your name’s been out of the papers for quite some time.”

“Well, I’m pretty boring now, I reckon,” Potter said. “Nobody wants to write about how Harry Potter hides in his house and paints all day.”

“Paints?” Severus asked. “Since when do you paint?”

Potter shrugged. “I picked it up while I was still on the force. It helped me de-stress at the end of a bad day. Apparently they’re not half-bad. I’ve been selling them – under a pseudonym, of course – and they’ve been going pretty well. Nothing’s going to hang in the Louvre any time soon, but it’s enough to keep me going.”

“So you’re simply going to paint the rest of your life?”

“Probably not,” Potter acknowledged. “Eventually I think I’d like to get back to a job where I’m around people more, something where I feel like I’m doing some good in the world. But it suits me for now. I like the solitude. It’s peaceful.”

Severus opened his mouth to speak, but a loud ringing noise interrupted him. 

“Sorry,” Potter said, pulling a mobile out of his pocket. “It’s Ron. Mind giving me a moment? I can never hear anything in here.”

Severus nodded, and Potter hurried out of the bar. Then, checking to make sure Potter was truly gone, he removed a phial from his robes and emptied its contents into Potter’s drink.

It was a new potion, one that he’d developed about a year ago and was only permitted to use under strict Ministry guidelines. It was one of Severus’ more ambitious projects, to create a spell within a potion. This one in particular worked like a rather sophisticated monitoring charm. Severus had already downed its counterpart earlier. Once Potter drank his ale, the potion would allow Severus to be aware of all of Potter’s actions for the next four weeks. His location, his state of mind, his health – all would be tucked away in Severus’ mind, ready to be accessed at any moment.

Really, it ought to be outright banned. But the Ministry had its uses for it, so Severus had been granted some… _leeway_.

Merlin, it was different being on this side of the law. 

“Sorry about that,” Potter said, sliding into his seat. “Ron’s not going to be able to make it. Apparently there’s some big case going on right now.”

Severus allowed himself a moment to be mildly impressed that Weasley had been able to stick to their plan. “So I’ve heard. I imagine you won’t see too much of Weasley over the next few weeks.” He smirked. “Rethinking your decision to leave?”

Potter laughed. “Not even close. Spend my Friday night holed up in an office where the lights never seem to be able to stay on, trying to forget that the men and women I was working with all had families and loved ones they were leaving behind as they risked their lives under my command, or sitting here drinking an ale? Not even a contest.”

Ah, yes, Severus found he could relate to that, right down to the dimly lit office. He wondered vaguely if he had inherited Potter’s. “Drinking alone, though,” Severus said pointedly.

“Not alone if I’ve got you,” Potter said. His face flushed red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Think nothing of it,” Severus said. “Well, since your drinking companion is a no-show, would you mind if I grabbed a pint?”

Potter’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? I mean, I don’t mind. I’m just surprised you’d want to.”

“I can always trust you to keep me on my toes,” Severus said, raising his hand for a waitress. “I’ve been lacking… _stimulation_ of late.”

The next few hours were relatively pleasant. Potter was a decent conversationalist, and, now that he was a decade out of school, was significantly more interesting and less tiresome than he had been as a teenager. Severus was also pleased to see the potion was working perfectly – he could tell that Potter was confused and nervous, but also rather excited, while only slightly inebriated. 

“Oh, it’s getting late,” Potter said, looking at his watch. “I should get home. Maggie will be wondering where I am.”

“Maggie?” Severus asked, gently probing at Potter’s mind for mention of the name. Upon finding warmth and affection, he frowned. “I didn’t realise you had a girlfriend.” A fact Weasley certainly should have mentioned to him beforehand.

“Oh, I don’t,” Potter said. “And other than the fact I’m more interested in men, Maggie is my dog. And my tastes _definitely_ don’t run that way.”

“Ah. Well that is certainly a relief,” Snape said. 

“That I’m gay, or that I’m not into dogs?” Potter asked, a grin upon his face.

Severus took a moment to again reach for Potter’s emotions. He was evidently feeling rather bold and flirtatious. _Perhaps he’s more of a lightweight than I thought._ Still, it could prove to be useful. “Both,” Severus replied. 

Potter’s face flushed pink. “Is that so?”

“Indeed.” Severus coughed. “Would you happen to be available this weekend? Perhaps we could have dinner. I’ll admit,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m rather intrigued by these paintings of yours.”

_Lust._ “Yeah,” Potter said, his voice cracking slightly. “That’d be great.”

~*~

Severus’ office door flew open. “You bastard!”

Severus didn’t look up from his reading. “Weasley, I’m well-aware we have a meeting this morning, but you will find the common protocol is to _knock_ before entering. More precisely, you will knock, wait for a response, and then, if my response is positive, you may enter. Shall we try this again?”

“Don’t start with me, Snape,” Weasley snarled. “I heard what you did.”

Severus glanced at the clock on his wall. “You’re ten minutes early. You’re never early. You’re never even on time.”

“I wanted to have fifteen minutes to shout at you,” Weasley said. “Then we can start at our usual time.”

“How considerate of you,” Severus said. “Won’t you have a seat?”

“No,” Weasley snapped. He slammed his files down on Severus’ desk and began pacing about the office. “What were you thinking? After promising not to seduce him?”

“One, I made no such promise,” Severus said. “I simply said it wouldn’t be my first approach.”

“Well it happened pretty damn quickly!” Weasley shouted. “Asking him out on a date on your first night on this mission. Are you mad?”

“You said it yourself, Weasley,” Severus said. “This is a _mission_. I saw an opportunity to get closer to Potter and I took it.”

“Why do you need to get closer to him?” Weasley asked. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Severus said. “Perhaps so I could examine the wards on his home and ensure they’re sufficient. Perhaps so I can drop subtle hints to put him on guard so he’s prepared in case he’s taken by surprise. And perhaps so he feels if something goes wrong, he should contact me immediately. In short, so I can save his damn life. Do you have a problem with that, Weasley?” he spat, his voice rising to a shout.

“Fuck you, Snape,” Weasley said. He leaned over the desk, staring straight into Severus’ eyes. “If you hurt him, if you lead him on in any way, I don’t care who you are or what position you hold here or how much Shacklebolt trusts you. I will kill you without hesitation. The second we sort this thing out, you say goodbye to Harry. Is that clear?”

“As clear as anything you’ve ever said,” Severus said coolly. “Now that you’ve had your temper tantrum, can we actually get down to work? Believe it or not, but I’d rather you not remain in my office all day.”

Weasley threw himself into a chair. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Everything, Weasley, but let’s begin with any developments as the identity of this Dark Wizard.”

Weasley opened one of the files on Severus’ desk. “Malfoy’s been questioning Helen Bullfinch under controlled conditions, as well as one other civilian who we found wandering around London who is suffering from the same symptoms. The victim is also desperate to find the man he will only identify as “the Creator.” We’ve determined that in their minds, our perpetrator has no other name.”

“Typical,” Severus muttered. “Has to make a grand gesture. Dark Wizards of today have no subtlety. Remember Mordred, Sauron? They didn’t need grandiose names to make an impression.”

“Right,” Weasley said. “If you’re well done criticising his choice of name…”

“What else do you know?” Severus interrupted.

“There have been reports of movement,” Weasley continued. “There are stories of strange travellers, who move on foot in large groups and don’t stop for anything. They ignore anybody who speaks with them. They seem to be heading towards London.”

“Any confirmation that these are the individuals who were affected by the fires in previous weeks? These so-called _Creations_?”

“We’re working on it,” Weasley said. “But I think it’s a safe assumption to make.”

“We should discuss plans to intercept them,” Severus said, taking out a map. “Can we have a team of your Aurors place tracers on them so we can map their progress?”

Weasley nodded. “Of course, we need to weigh the benefits of having more individuals to question with the consequence of not knowing their final destination.”

Severus had to admit, Weasley was a passable strategist. It was a shame all of that skill went by the wayside the second he stepped onto the field, but he supposed it couldn’t entirely be helped. Gryffindors were born to be reckless and headstrong. It was in their blood.

After two hours, Severus didn’t feel as though they would be taking the Creator into custody any time soon, but he also felt the Aurors weren’t a complete waste of the Ministry budget. It was likely as good as they were going to get for the moment.

“I think that’s it for now,” Weasley said. “I’m checking in with Malfoy this afternoon. I’ll send you over my notes from that meeting.”

“Malfoy will also send his to me,” Severus said, eying his own notes. “Between the two of you, I’ll be able to glean a scant picture of what actually occurred in your meeting.”

Weasley rolled his eyes. “Have it your way,” he said, standing. Once at the door, he looked back at Severus. “Be gentle with Harry, will you? He… he’s got a lot to lose. I don’t want to see him get carried away with this.”

“Don’t worry, Weasley,” Severus drawled. “I’ll save the marriage proposal for next week.”

“I’m serious,” Weasley said. “Don’t make him fall for you.”

“I realise I’m dreadfully irresistible with my stunning good looks and charming personality, but I’ll do my best,” Severus said. 

Weasley opened his mouth, but then shook his head. “Never mind. Tell him… tell him I say hello.”

“If I can remember,” Severus replied. “He may set my heart so aflutter I can’t even recall my own name.”

“You’re such a bastard,” Weasley muttered, and left Severus’ office.

“First and foremost,” Severus said, and returned to his work.

~*~

Severus sipped his wine.

Potter played with his fork.

Severus glanced at the drink specials.

Potter sighed.

“Am I boring you, Potter?” Severus asked.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Potter replied. “Listen, I know we were drinking a bit the other night, but I really thought there might be a spark there. But if I was imagining it, just let me know. No shame in just having supper as friends.”

Severus coughed. “No, I apologise. I suppose I’m simply out of practice with being on dates.”

Potter’s expression softened. “I don’t have much experience with it myself.”

Severus snorted. “I find that difficult to believe. I happen to know for a fact there are hoards of men and women queuing up to date you.”

“Perhaps,” Potter said. “But they never really interested me.”

“Potter the Particular?” Severus asked.

“I guess you could say that,” Potter said. “Really, I think I just set my sights on someone a long time ago, and I’ve had trouble finding anyone else who comes close to that.”

Severus took another sip of wine, trying to quash the feeling of jealousy trickling in his stomach. What did it matter to him that Potter still held a torch for somebody? It wasn’t as though he would be here on this “date” if he hadn’t been required to be by his boss. Besides, whoever had rejected Harry was clearly a fool, and Severus didn’t have the energy to expend being irritated with fools beyond the ones he was paid to work with. What idiot wouldn’t return the affections of Harry bloody Potter of all people? 

Fortunately, their food arrived at that moment, and he and Potter fell into a companionable silence. Severus did appreciate that about Potter; he couldn’t even begin to count the number of times a perfectly good meal had been ruined by somebody feeling the need to comment on every grain of rice on their plate. 

Severus took a moment to study the man in front of him. He had to admit that Potter had grown up well. His face had matured over the years, but his green eyes sparkled as brightly as ever. And his hair had gone from impossibly messy to a rather appealing just-shagged look.

Severus coughed. That thought could apparently lead down a dangerous path, if the twitch of his prick under his robes was any indication. 

“I’m a little curious,” Potter said once their plates were taken away. “Not that I’m complaining of course. But why now? We’ve barely spoken since your trial. At least, you never seemed interested in talking with me.”

Severus had prepared a response to this question. Even Potter wasn’t so obtuse as to not think something was slightly amiss that Severus would suddenly express interest in him. He’d intended on making some pithy remark about how he suddenly realised his world was slightly off-kilter and perhaps the reason was that Potter wasn’t in it, and that it seemed like fate when he happened to see him at the Three Broomsticks. But what emerged from his mouth was quite different and, he had to admit, far more honest.

“You intrigue me, Potter,” Severus said. “I’ve only noticed it recently, and I was curious to see more.”

“Are you liking what you’re seeing?” Potter asked, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Don’t fish for compliments,” Severus chided. 

“Sorry,” Potter said, but his smile grew wider. 

“Hmph,” Severus said. “Now, I believe the original plan was to see some of your paintings tonight. Would you still be agreeable to that?”

“Yeah,” Potter said, his face flushing. “My house isn’t too far from here. We could walk. Or Apparate, if you’d prefer,” he said hurriedly.

“I wouldn’t mind a walk,” Severus said. “It’s a pleasant night.”

Pleasant wasn’t precisely the word that came to mind once they stepped outside and began the walk to Potter’s house. Oh, the weather was fine enough – slightly warmer than usual, with a light breeze that occasionally riffled Potter’s black hair – but there was more to the night than that. No, it was only that as Severus walked beside Potter, their steps gradually matching in rhythm and pace, he felt… tense. Whenever his shoulder would graze against Potter’s, he had to resist the urge to grab hold of him to… keep his balance? What other reason was there to hold onto Potter?

It was a mad, mad night.

“Thanks for tonight,” Potter said, his voice cutting through the silence surrounding them. “I had a really great time.”

Severus inclined his head. “It’s not quite over.” 

“I know,” Potter said. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Then, much to Severus’ amazement, Potter slipped his hand into his own.

It was an act Severus had never seen the appeal of. A hand held by another hand – there was nothing special in that. But somehow, with Potter’s fingers flexing around his, his thumb tracing small circles around the base of his own, Severus felt warmer than he had any right to. He was even more aware of Potter moving beside him, next to him, _with_ him. It was a surprisingly intimate act.

_Merlin, Snape. All those years as a hermit have caught up with you._

“Do you mind?” Potter asked, squeezing Severus’ hand.

Severus thought about saying yes and pulling away, but the truth was, he didn’t especially want to. “No,” he replied. “Not at all.” 

He was slightly irritated to see that Potter had indeed grown more trustworthy with age; Potter’s house was barely a ten minute walk. Still, he couldn’t allow himself time to be irrationally irritated. While Potter unlocked his front door, Severus surreptitiously cast several warding and monitoring spells around the house.

“It’s not much,” Potter warned as he opened the door. “It’s small, but since it’s just me and – ”

Severus took one step into the house and was nearly bowled over by a mangy ball of fur.

“Maggie!” Potter shouted. “Down!”

“Is that what this… overgrown squirrel is?” Severus asked, attempting to bat the creature away. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Potter said, tugging Maggie away by her collar. “I swear normally she’s not this excitable. She usually hates strangers.”

“Of course,” Severus muttered, wiping fur from his robes.

“There,” Potter said, scratching the top of Maggie’s head. “Good girl. Stay.”

Maggie sat, panting heavily, casting eager eyes at Severus, then Potter, then Severus again. Then, without any further warning, she jumped back up on Severus.

“Damn it!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Potter said. “Just scratch rub behind her ears. That’s usually all she wants from me.”

“Disgusting mongrel,” Severus grunted, but followed Potter’s suggestion. Thankfully, Maggie seemed satisfied, and eventually dropped to Severus’ feet. She didn’t move any farther away, however. “Where ever did you find her?”

“Followed me home from work one day,” Potter said. “Just turned around and there she was. Refused to leave.”

“You mean to tell me this oversized dust mite was living alone out in the wild like some sort of feral beast? I am shocked.”

“Hush. She has ears.”

“Yes, very large ones,” Severus said. 

“Well, I still think you should feel honoured,” Potter said. “It took her weeks to warm up to Ron and Hermione.”

“Lucky me,” Severus said.

“Don’t worry. Let me get her some dinner and she should leave us alone. Hang on. C’mere, Maggie! Dinner!”

As Potter led his dog to the kitchen, Severus took the opportunity to examine Potter’s house. Being a former Auror, Potter apparently had the good sense to put up fairly strong and strategic wards, which Severus naturally strengthened just to be safe. He managed to place a few monitoring charms so he would know the identity of anybody who entered Potter’s home and was just finishing upgrading the privacy settings on the Floo when Potter re-entered the room.

“Sorry about that,” Potter said. “We should be safe for a few hours. She always falls asleep after eating.”

Severus nodded. “She’s very… enthusiastic.”

“Yeah, that’s one word for her,” Potter laughed. “So, you still want to see those paintings?”

Severus’ first impression of Potter’s studio was that it was cluttered. Messy. _Disastrously_ messy, in fact. Maggie could have buried a bone underneath all the piles of papers and canvasses on the floor and nobody would have known the difference. 

And yet, it seemed right and so very _Potter._

It was small, but with a large window that Severus could tell would let in copious amounts of sunlight during the day. The walls were likely once upon a time a plain beige, but they were now so adorned with random splotches of reds and greens and blue that Severus could barely even tell anymore. Four easels lined the back wall, each with a partially painted canvas perched upon it. Harry’s completed paintings were scattered about the room, some hanging on the walls, but many more simply perched on the floor against the wall.

“So clearly you didn’t outgrow your messy teenager stage,” Severus commented.

Potter laughed. “You know, I did put up a good fight, but every day I cleaned it up I just ended up making another mess an hour later… just saves time in the end. I make sure it’s sanitary, don’t worry.”

Severus nodded and moved to examine some of the paintings. “These aren’t what I expected.”

“Yeah, me neither, to be honest,” Potter said. “Hermione is the one who first bought me some art supplies. It had been a really rough month at work and she thought it would relax me. So I tried the usual things at first, you know, landscapes and things I’d seen during the day, you know. A few of Maggie as well.” He grinned. “But they just didn’t feel right. I felt like I was trying so hard to make something perfect.”

“And I take it there was some sort of turnaround?” Severus said, gesturing towards the closest canvas, which was covered with vividly painted patterns and angry bursts of colour.

“Yeah,” Potter said. “Captured the vampire we’d been hunting for three weeks. Only he’d manage to kill an entire family while we had him cornered. Two children, both under the age of five. I came home, found the peaceful painting I’d worked on just the night before of that tree in the backyard, and hurled paint at it. Didn’t stop until three in the morning. When I finally stopped, I looked at it, and that’s when I knew. It was just right.” He laughed. “It’s hard to lie with paintings. I’ve found my best ones are the ones where I paint exactly what I feel, without even thinking of the why or how. It’s the most honest thing I know.”

Severus nodded. “And in this one… you were upset.” That much was obvious. Severus didn’t know a blasted thing about art, but grief, fear, and hopelessness fairly radiated off the canvas.

“Yeah,” Potter said, biting his lower lip. “It was a long night. One of those nights you can’t help but feel alone. That was the night I decided I had to quit.”

Severus wasn’t sure what came over him, but at that moment, he was aware he was a hair’s breadth away from the man whose solitude was so clearly reflected in that painting. And while he was well aware that he would never be the first man anybody went to for comfort, he was the only one who was here now.

And so he pulled Potter in by the waist, tilted up his chin, and kissed him.

It was barely more than a faint brushing of lips, but it may have been the sweetest touch Severus had ever known. Sighing, Severus pulled Potter closer, tangling his fingers in his hair as he gingerly explored his mouth.

He was jerked back to reality when his cock began to stir beneath his robes. Muttering an apology, he pulled away with a gasp.

“Wow,” Potter whispered. 

“Right,” Severus said, clearing his throat. “That was…”

“Yeah,” Potter said.

“I should go,” Severus said, a little more loudly. 

“Okay,” Potter said. “That is… okay. Let me show you the door. Or the Floo?”

“The door is fine,” Severus said. “I could use the exercise.” Yes, a long walk would be necessary to clear his head.

Once they reached the front door, passing by a snoring Maggie, Potter reached for Severus’ hand. “You’re not going to just disappear on me after tonight, are you?”

Severus quirked an eyebrow. As tempted as he was to do just that so he could ignore the strange feelings stirring in his chest, he had a job to do. _And who knows? Perhaps one day there would be another kiss._ “Not just yet, Mister Potter.”

“Harry,” he corrected, and once again brushed his lips against Severus’. “Good.”

Somehow, Severus thought as he began the long walk home, “good” was not precisely the word he’d use to describe the evening.

~*~

Severus squinted at his notes in front of him. When that didn’t work, he pulled on his spectacles. And when _that_ didn’t work, he stood up in a huff and began pacing in his office. 

He didn’t want Potter. Hell, he barely even _liked_ Potter.

_Liar._

Well, even if he wanted to like Potter, which he most assuredly did not, all of these things were very new developments. And besides, he was far too old to be spending his days mooning over anybody, _especially_ somebody like Harry Potter. Merlin, what was he going to do next? Pick up an issue of _Witch Weekly_ and find a nice shot of Potter to wank to?

_Not a bad idea…_

A loud knock sounded at his door. “I’m busy!” he barked.

“Don’t really care,” Draco replied, entering. “Besides, I’m only the advance guard.”

“What the devil are you talking about?” Severus snapped.

Draco nodded towards the orb perched on the corner of Severus desk, the one that glowed red when Aurors were on high alert. Severus had been so distracted by his damn hormones that he hadn’t even noticed it was already a deep, burnt orange, and was growing redder by the second.

“Fuck,” Severus muttered. “Is it the Creator?” He immediately reached out to his mental link with Potter; it revealed he was safe at his home. 

“In Hogsmeade,” Draco said. “We won’t be able to hide this one. People are definitely going to take notice.”

“Wonderful,” Severus said, gathering his materials. “And why aren’t you at St Mungo’s awaiting your patients?”

“I have a room specially set up here,” Draco replied. “All patients will be brought to the Ministry. For now, I’ll be observing from the Command Centre.” 

Shacklebolt was already standing at the observation window, a fairly new device that allowed them to view nearly any location their Aurors were stationed, when Severus and Draco reached the Command Centre. Weasley wasn’t there; Severus assumed he was in Hogsmeade.

“They struck about ten minutes ago,” Shacklebolt said. “The fire appears to have originated at the Three Broomsticks.” 

Ignoring the nausea in the pit of his stomach, Severus peered closer at the observation window. Thankfully, they’d managed to get a fairly decent view of the attack. However, had Severus not been told, he would have never known it was the Three Broomsticks. The entire building was completely engulfed in flames. Aurors had surrounded the area and were attempting to extinguish the fire, but Severus couldn’t fathom how there would be any survivors. 

“Salazar,” Draco breathed. “It’s an inferno. Did we happen to catch anybody suspicious entering the building beforehand?”

“It’s the Three Broomsticks,” Shacklebolt said. “So many people come and go. But I already have a team looking through the recording of the observation window.”

“At least it’s in the afternoon,” Draco said. “It would have been even worse if the Creator had struck during supper, when the dining area is full.”

“Look,” Severus said. “Look at the fire.”

The flames, which just seconds before were proving to be impervious to all of the Aurors’ efforts, had nearly entirely receded. They watched in amazement as the smoke vanished into the air, even as the Three Broomsticks continued standing just as proud and tall as it had done before the fire struck. And then, right by the front door, tiny but unmistakable, was a glistening, gold apple.

_”Fuck,”_ Severus said. “If Weasley allows anybody to touch that blasted apple…”

“I believe we might have a bigger problem than the apple,” Shacklebolt said.

Severus pulled on his spectacles and peered closed. Spilling out of the Three Broomsticks were throngs of people, all walking as though in a trance, heading south. They paid no heed to any objects in their path, nor the Aurors closing in to surround them, simply moving towards some unknown fixed point.

“There’s Rosmerta,” Draco said. 

“Damn it,” Shacklebolt muttered. “I’ll send a Patronus. It looks like everybody in that building was affected. We’re going to need to do massive control – ”

“Minister, look,” Severus interjected.

The Aurors had moved in even closer, all with their wands outreached. But the second any of them cast a spell, the Creations would raise their hands, emitting a bright white light from their palms. Severus couldn’t tell precisely what the light did, but it was knocking Aurors off their brooms and causing the ones on foot to collapse.

“Damn it,” Shacklebolt said, and cast his Patronus. “Weasley, track and retreat. I repeat, track and retreat.” 

Severus shook his head, looking even more closely at the scene unfolding before them.

It appeared as though they were all quite thoroughly fucked.

~*~

It was very late that evening before Severus was able to leave the office. They had managed to bring in a few victims into the Ministry for Draco to examine more closely, but it had been hell to subdue them. Their devotion to the Creator seemed even stronger than Bullfinch’s; Draco hypothesised it was because such a large group of them had been turned together, that it intensified the power of the bond. Whatever it was, very few people in the department had emerged without a few cuts or bruises. Fortunately, however, there were no casualties; while the light the creations cast out from their hands had knocked out several Aurors, it did not appear to do much else.

Severus had been charged with strengthening the tracking spells the Aurors had managed to place on the victims. It had been surprising to see an attack so far north, given how all the fires previously had been on the south side of Britain. Severus could also see the new Creations were already marching south to join the others. But if the Creator was seeking publicity, he certainly achieved his goal: the attack made the front page of a special edition of the _Prophet_ that evening.

Despite the late hour, and the fact that it would be an early morning, Severus still didn’t feel like going home quite yet. Home only provided a quiet space and a lonely bed, neither of which greatly appealed to Severus at the moment. Idly, he cast his mind out to Potter again, for what had to be at least the hundredth time since the attack. Potter was pensive, concerned, conflicted… and out walking by himself in the middle of London. 

Well, Severus had a duty to protect him, did he not? And so, without another thought, he Apparated to just a few yards away from Potter.

He intended to simply walk behind Potter for a little while before eventually, if the situation called for it, merely saying hello. But as it turned out, Potter was not _entirely_ alone, which proved to be the fatal flaw in Severus’ plan.

“Maggie!” Potter shouted. “What’s gotten into you?”

Severus grunted as Maggie bounded over to him, excitedly jumping up and down until Severus reluctantly scratched behind her ears. “Down, you mangy beast.”

“Sorry,” Potter said. “Seriously, I don’t know what it is about you.”

“Sheer animal magnetism,” Severus said dryly. “How are you, Potter?”

Potter shrugged. “Okay, I suppose. Although I thought I told you it was Harry.”

Severus felt his face burn at the memory of just what had been happening when… _Harry_ had made that request. “Very well. Harry.” 

Harry grinned. “Thanks.” With the slightest hesitation, he reached out to touch Severus’ arm. “How are you holding up?”

Severus tried to ignore how quickly his body warmed to the touch. “Well enough. I suppose you’ve heard the news?”

“I expect all of Britain has,” Harry said. “A fire that never was leading to dozens of hypnotised people parading across the country, shooting light from their hands? Quite the headline.”

“Among other things,” Severus said.

“You just going home now?”

Severus nodded. “Yes, but I was feeling a bit restless and thought I’d take a walk first.”

“Me too,” Harry said. “After reading all that… had to clear my head.”

“I thought you typically did that by painting,” Severus said pointedly. “Seems slightly safer than wandering about on your own in the middle of the night.”

Harry laughed. “Always the protector, aren’t you… Severus?”

Severus arched an eyebrow. “I don’t believe I gave you leave to use my first name.”

“I decide to take it anyway.” Harry moved his hand from Severus’ arm to his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Do you mind?”

It was pointless to deny it at this point. Truthfully, hearing his name from Harry’s lips gave Severus an embarrassing, giddy thrill that he had no right to feel. But he could still maintain his dignity. “I suppose it’s only fair.”

“Good,” Harry said, entwining his fingers with Severus’. “Besides, I’m not alone. I’ve got Maggie.”

“Yes, and if a madman decided to have a go at you, I’m sure an oversized, drooling teddy bear demanding ear scratches would _entirely_ stop him in his tracks.”

“Maggie can be quite ferocious when she wants to be,” Harry said with a chuckle. He tugged at Severus’ hand, and they began walking down the path together. “But I’ve taken precautions. Don’t worry.”

“Hmph,” Severus said. “I should be the judge of that.”

“Hate to break it to you, Severus,” Harry said. “But I was Head Auror for three years. I think I know a thing or two about protecting myself.”

“I suppose you do,” Severus conceded. “I must ask. How does it feel, to be on this side of things? Witnessing a case of this scale and not being out on the front lines to defeat it?”

“Weird,” Harry said immediately. “Very weird. It took all my will power not to Apparate over to Hogsmeade or the Ministry as soon as I heard. And I love Ron, and I know he’s entirely capable, but I still wish I could just jump in and do things my way, you know?” He sighed. “But it’s not my business anymore. I get that. And I knew that when I resigned. Still hard.”

“I can imagine,” Severus said. He paused. “While we never worked together in an official capacity, from what I’ve heard in the department and the evidence I’ve seen… you were truly exceptional in your role.”

A slow smile spread across Harry’s face. “Yeah?”

“Indeed.” Severus sighed and looked down at their joined hands. Such a picture they made – two men walking hand in hand down the way with a dog. So bloody domestic. “I wouldn’t want to keep you out later than you intended,” he said. “Were you planning on heading home soon?”

“Soon enough,” Harry replied. “It’s getting pretty late.”

Severus nodded. “Would you mind then if I escorted you home?”

“Would it make you feel better, knowing I was getting home safe?” Harry teased.

“It would,” Severus admitted. “But I believe I’d also enjoy some company on a night such as this.”

“You believe?” Harry asked, his voice still light. “You’re not absolutely certain?”

Severus shrugged. “There haven’t been too many people willing to indulge me on a late night stroll.”

Harry’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean –”

“Think nothing of it,” Severus interjected. He squeezed Harry’s hand. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, leaning in closer to Severus. “Let’s.”

And so they walked together, hand in hand, on their own free will, on a clear, starry night in London.

~*~

Severus set down his quill and red ink, having thoroughly scoured through the _Prophet._ The Creator and his antics had been on the front page all week. Fortunately, there were enough inaccuracies in the reporting that the Creator would have no idea how far the Aurors were in their efforts to capture him. Severus took a brief moment to thank the newspaper for being as reliably sloppy as always, and a slightly longer one to lament the slow progress the team had made. It had been weeks, and they still didn’t know the Creator’s identity, where he was leading his creations, or what he was planning to do with them. 

On the sole bright side, Harry had remained remarkably and uncharacteristically trouble-free.

On a whim, Severus did something he never did: turned to the entertainment section of the _Prophet._ Harry had mentioned he was craving sushi, and Severus thought he’d heard of a new Asian fusion restaurant opening soon.

“Ahem.”

Severus glanced up and glared at Draco. “Don’t take that tone with me.”

Draco had the nerve to smile as he sat in the chair across from Severus. “I was just curious why you didn’t show up to our meeting on time. I must say, I didn’t expect to come in here and find you reading the funnies.”

Refusing to be shamed by Draco “I must leave work after lunch for my mid-week massage” Malfoy, Severus merely lowered the paper. “I believe our meeting was for three.”

“Yes, and it’s ten past,” Draco said, smirking. “Daydreaming?” 

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” Severus sniffed. 

“Oh, come off it, Severus. You’re entirely too obvious.” Draco crossed one leg over the other. “Everybody knows you’ve seen Harry Potter every night this week.”

“Yes,” Severus said. “As I do believe I was directed to do so by the Minister of Magic himself.”

“He didn’t tell you that you needed to enjoy it,” Draco said.

“I hardly think Potter would agree to be in my presence so frequently if he thought I despised his company,” Severus said.

“Severus…”

“I was a spy for many years,” Severus interrupted. “Do you think I’m incapable of hiding my true loyalties?”

“Oh, I know you’re quite able to,” Draco said, his voice soft. “I’m just wondering why you’re continuing to do so.”

“Draco, I’ll have you know –”

“At least with me,” Draco interjected. “I can understand not wanting to give an exclusive to Rita Skeeter, but at least confiding in a friend? Believe me, I can understand the terror and confusion that is the beginning stages of falling in love.”

“I… you… how dare you!”

“He’s quite fond of you,” Draco said. “That’s one battle won. You’ve no idea how long it took for me to get Astoria to even look in my direction without disdain.”

“Rubbish,” Severus muttered. He paused. “How do you know?”

“Astoria is good friends with Cho Chang, who works with Ginny Weasley, who, naturally, is good friends with Hermione Granger. Word travels fast.”

“Gossiping twits,” Severus said, but he couldn’t deny the stirring of pleasure in his belly at the knowledge that Harry was telling others that he was _fond_ of Severus.

“Be that as it may, it’s the truth,” Draco said. He leaned closer to Severus. “Perhaps I was wrong in mentioning it today. I can understand wanting to keep it to yourself. But please know that you, of all people, deserve to be happy. You’ve been alone for far too long.”

Severus frowned. “You would be so accepting of a relationship with me and Potter?”

“Well, I’ll admit he’s not my first choice,” Draco said. “But I’ve seen a change come over you this past week. Normally with a case like this, you’d only be leaving your office to snarl or shout at somebody. But instead you seem… almost calm. Lighter. As though you finally have some happiness tucked away that’s keeping you sane and steady. What kind of man would I be to deny that of you?”

Severus nodded slowly. “I will admit that I do have… feelings. But I wouldn’t say they’re anywhere near the path of falling in love.”

Draco smiled. “You don’t have to say it. Just promise me you won’t fight it when it happens.”

“That’s awfully forward of you, Malfoy,” Severus said. 

“I’ve found that when dealing with difficult patients, it’s often best to simply be direct.”

Severus growled.

“Now that we have that bit of business out of the way, how about we discuss the latest creations that have been brought it?” Draco said, handing Severus a file. “I’ve run a few tests. There are no signs of any Unforgivables.”

Severus took out his spectacles and began to read over Draco’s notes on those poor souls being led blindly to an unknown destination, and tried desperately not to think of how very much he could relate.

~*~

“Ready, Snape?” Shacklebolt asked, sitting in a chair close to the observation window in the Command Centre. “Weasley sent word they’d be starting any second.”

“Of course,” Severus replied. He settled in his own seat, hoping his posture didn’t give away how very much on edge he was. He’d spent days working to implement a plan to stop the creations in their trek to some unknown destination and take them into custody. For countless hours he’d studied all the information they had on the Creator and his creations, interviewing and examining the creations in the Ministry, and outlining every single possibility. And yet he _still_ had a sinking feeling it wasn’t enough. Nevertheless, Shacklebolt was eager to act, so act they must.

The observation window showed a long line of the Creator’s victims, each blindly putting one foot in front of the other as they continued on their journey. They were just outside of Bristol, Severus noticed with some satisfaction. At the very least he’d been accurate in that calculation. A small crowd had gathered to watch them, some shouting after the group, but none daring to get too close.

And then…

“There’s Weasley,” Shacklebolt said. “Approaching from the west.”

Severus realised Shacklebolt likely could tell how nervous he was based on the fact he did not respond with “of course he’s approaching from the west, it’s what was in the plan from the very beginning,” and instead simply leaned closer to the observation window, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. 

“All seven undercover Aurors accounted for,” Shacklebolt said, nodding towards the observation window.

Indeed, seven Aurors, the best the department had to offer, had joined the ranks of the creations. If Severus hadn’t personally selected the team himself and hadn’t spent hours studying their files, he never would have known that these were highly trained Aurors who still had full range of their mental capabilities. They had perfected the same hollow look as the Creations and walked perfectly in pace with them.

“The Creations appear not to notice they’ve been infiltrated,” Severus commented. “That’s a positive sign.”

“Indeed,” Shacklebolt said. “Looks like Weasley is a safe distance ahead. They should be starting the second stage any second now.”

The words were no sooner out of Shacklebolt’s mouth than a barely visible cloud surrounded the group. The Aurors’ movements were slow and controlled as they strengthened the cloud. Gradually, it encapsulated them all, then began to rise in the air.

“Good, good,” Shacklebolt said under his breath. 

Severus remained silent. The next stage was the most dangerous. The plan called for the Aurors to Disapparate to directly below the cloud, then together consolidate the mass and transport it to the Ministry. While the first round of magic they used was gentle enough to likely go undetected by the Creations, the next bit was exceedingly powerful magic. Severus couldn’t help but recall the white streams of light emerging from the hands of the creations.

“Weasley, can you hear me?” Shacklebolt asked.

“Yes,” came Weasley’s voice, echoing in the Command Centre. “They’re Disapparating now – oh, no. Fuck!”

It didn’t take long for Severus to realise what the root of Weasley’s concern was. Where once was a cloud was now a ball of flames. 

“Damn it!” Shacklebolt shouted. 

“Weasley,” Severus said urgently. “How is the cloud interacting with the fire?”

“It’s different,” Weasley said, his voice raspy. From the observation window they could see he had formed a protective bubble around his head to shield him from the smoke. “I can smell… oh, Merlin. I can smell burning flesh.” 

Severus felt bile rising in his throat. The scene before them was all too reminiscent of his days as a Death Eater. _And just like then, this is all my fault._

“Weasley, do you need back up?” Shacklebolt barked.

“Yes,” Weasley said. “The fire’s spreading. It’s reaching bystanders. But I think this is a regular fire. Nothing magical about it.”

Just a regular fire. Meaning that instead of people losing control of their minds and bodies, they would simply lose their lives. _Damn it!_

Severus jumped to his feet. “Weasley, I’m Apparating now.”

“Are you mad?” Shacklebolt asked. “You don’t have clearance for field work.”

“It’s my fault the field is on fire in the first place,” Severus snapped. “The least I can do is attempt to put it out.”

“Snape!”

“Don’t think for a moment that even you could stop me, Minister,” Severus said, and Disapparated.

~*~

Feeling his exhaustion creep up on him, Severus found a nearby park bench and collapsed. He’d felt no desire to go home following the utter disaster of that afternoon, but now, after hours of walking aimlessly, he wondered if he’d be able to summon the energy to Apparate home.

It was, without a doubt, his worst day in recent memory. He wasn’t so naïve to believe that he’d emerge from his job with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without some blood on his hands. It was statistically impossible for every mission to go exactly right every single time. And while Severus prided himself in his strategic mind and his ability to predict nearly every possibility, there was always the element of the unknown.

Severus’ plans had brought about nearly forty broken bones, twenty-three deep lacerations, seventeen cases of internal bleeding, twelve poisonings, eight temporary losses of memory, four missing appendages, and one unbreakable spell that forced poor Auror Silvestry to only be able to repeat words that were spoken to her. 

But never before had his plans caused the death of an Auror, let alone seven Aurors. 

He sighed and buried his head in his hands. He could still smell the smoke in the air, the scent of burnt flesh tickling his gag reflex, the knowledge that the people he had sent into the fray were dead because of him.

And yet the Creations remained free and continued their march, undisturbed as the earth burned around them.

Merlin, what an utter waste.

Something cold and wet nudged at his knee. Annoyed at the intrusion by what was likely a presumptuous stray, he didn’t even bother to raise his head. “Go away,” he muttered.

“Only if you really want me to.”

Severus jerked up. “Harry. What are you doing here?”

“Just got back from seeing Ron. Didn’t fancy going home just yet.” He gently squeezed Severus’ shoulder. “Mind if Maggie and I join you?”

“If you’d like,” Severus said, because truthfully, for whatever reason, while he only wanted to be alone, he very much wanted to be alone with Harry. Even though he couldn’t fathom why Harry would want to sit on a park bench in the middle of the night with the likes of him.

“We would,” Harry said. He sat on the bench, carefully leaving a safe amount of distance between the two of them. Severus ached to reach out to hold his hand, but didn’t dare make the move.

They sat together in silence for a long while. Maggie didn’t even bark once, only rested her head at Severus’ feet. It was really no different than how Severus had been spending his time before Harry had arrived, but somehow it was infinitely more maddening.

“I have nothing to say,” Severus said impulsively. “Nothing. So if you’re trying to get me to tell you what I’m feeling, or ask how Weasley is taking it, or – ”

“Hey,” Harry said quietly, finally reaching for Severus’ hand. “I’m not asking for anything. I just want to make sure you’re…”

“Okay?” Severus asked sarcastically.

Harry smiled sadly. “No. I know you’ll never be okay. Just… I know how it feels. And I know how awful it is to feel like that by yourself, to go home after a horrible day and have only your thoughts to keep you company. It’s part of the reason I was so relieved to find Maggie.”

“I hardly think a _dog_ will be of any use to me,” Severus said.

“You never know,” Harry said. He paused. “Was it your first?”

Severus let out a humourless laugh. “There’s no need to romanticise it,” he said. “I have killed before, as you remember. And I have been responsible for the deaths of countless others while I was a Death Eater. This is nothing new.”

“Except it is,” Harry said. “You’re in your work robes, under official Ministry clearance, doing the best you can to try to save the world, and then somehow it goes all horribly pear-shaped. And somehow it’s just as filthy and reprehensible as when you were at war. Despite your best efforts, people still die. And you can’t help but feel it’s entirely your fault.”

“Don’t harbour any false illusions towards me,” Severus said. “It _was_ entirely my fault. It was my plan, from beginning to end. I chose the time. I chose the place. I chose the approach. I chose the people who would give up their lives to satisfy my arrogance that I knew precisely what would happen.”

“You had no way of knowing the Creations’ defence mechanisms had evolved so greatly,” Harry said. “Anybody would have thought the Aurors would have been converted into Creations themselves. Death wasn’t really on the table.”

“Death is _always_ on the table,” Severus said.

Harry snorted. At Severus’ sharp look, he said, “I know, you’re right. It is. And Aurors know that better than most. Believe me, those seven knew what they were getting in to.”

Severus shook his head. “I’d hoped it was done,” he admitted. “All of the deaths. I know I don’t deserve… but I’d hoped…”

“We all hoped,” Harry said, squeezing Severus’ hand. 

“When does it end?” Severus asked. His voice was weak, strained, so hoarse he could barely recognise it.

Harry sighed. “I don’t know. I had to leave. Couldn’t take it any more. Even the thought of playing a part in that…” He shuddered. “You’re a far braver man than I am.”

“Rubbish,” Severus said. For the very last thing he felt at this moment was brave.

“The bravest man I’ve ever known,” Harry said. He cupped Severus’ face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. 

Severus nearly whimpered. Merlin, kissing Harry was like an other-worldly experience. Their embrace wasn’t even a passionate one, more of an affirmation that they were not entirely alone and a gesture of comfort in a horrible night, but it still made Severus feel weak. He ached to hold Harry closer, to feel his warmth and to know that even if he had completely fucked everything up, he at least had this one perfect thing within reach.

Even if it was entirely under false pretences.

_Fuck._

“Come home with me,” Harry whispered against Severus’ lips.

Severus froze. “I don’t know if that would be prudent,” he admitted.

“Not that,” Harry said quickly. “Although I wouldn’t mind. No. I just have an idea of something that might help. You can go home right away if you want. Or we can just sit inside, out of the cold air, and talk. Or not talk. Whatever you prefer.”

“You’re rambling,” Severus commented.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Harry said, grinning. He kissed Severus’ cheek. “What do you say?”

Severus sighed. He could think of a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t go back with Harry. His feelings were already complicated enough as it was, and this certainly wasn’t the night to continue this assault on his emotions. 

But damn it, he had no desire to be alone.

“Let’s go,” Severus said, and, on impulse, leaned in to kiss Harry once more.

~*~

Severus glanced at the brush in his hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Whatever you want,” Harry said. “But generally speaking, you want it to make contact with the canvas.”

“I don’t paint, Harry,” Severus said. “I understand this is cathartic for you, but it would just be a waste of paint for me.”

“I can always buy more,” Harry said. Standing behind Severus, he grasped his hand holding the brush, dipped it into some red paint on a nearby palette, and held it against the canvas. “Go on.”

“And what do you expect me to paint?” Severus asked. He could see his hand trembling beneath Harry’s. Harry didn’t comment on it. If anything, he only held his hand harder. 

“Whatever you want,” Harry said. “Lines, shapes… usually I just let my hand take over and go on from there.” He gently nudged Severus’ hand. “Go on.”

Severus watched as a long streak of red appeared on the canvas. He frowned. This whole affair seemed ludicrous. 

“How about this?” Harry said, letting go of Severus’ hand. “Sometimes it’s better to do it alone. Why don’t I leave you here and go make us a cuppa, and you can give it a go?”

Severus sighed. “Very well,” he said. 

When he was alone, he contemplated the canvas once more. He still couldn’t fathom what Harry expected him to get out of this experience. He was never one who cared for the arts. He had absolutely no interest in painting. _Painting_ , when seven people, seven good, strong, _brave_ people, were dead on his account. All while he stayed safely hidden in the Ministry, watching from afar. 

_Coward._

Merlin, but he was a blasted fool. Who did he think he was, sitting behind a desk in his dimly lit office as he plotted out people’s lives, as though he were simply playing a challenging game of chess? Who was he to play god? How _arrogant_ was he to think he was worthy of this job?

He was a coward and a liar. Here he was, in Harry’s home, playing the part of a suitor, allowing Harry to comfort him on a night when he was selfish enough to indulge in self-pity. How would Harry feel if he knew Severus was essentially being paid to court him? How would he react if he knew with just the briefest of thoughts, Severus could tell exactly where Harry was and how he was feeling? Oh, Harry would _hate_ him, just as much as he deserved to be hated.

“Damn it!” 

“Hey.”

Severus whirled around. Chest heaving, he stared at Harry, who was holding two steaming cups of tea. 

“Everything okay?” Harry peered over Severus’ shoulder at the canvas. “You made a lot of progress there.”

Severus turned. Merlin, he’d been so caught up in his head that he’d covered the entire canvas in paint and hadn’t even realised it. Blues, greys, and angry reds shouted at him from the easel.

Severus felt his knees grow weak.

“Hey,” Harry repeated, setting down the cups. He reached for Severus. “Come here.” 

Severus fell into Harry’s embrace, clinging to him as his body continued to shake. He knew he had no right to seek this comfort, especially not from Harry, but he was a weak man. And as Harry held him, clutching the back of his head while whispering soft, soothing words Severus couldn’t quite make out, Severus only burrowed his head in Harry’s shoulder and pulled him even closer.

“I recognise that painting,” Harry said. “I painted a lot like it. The pain, the rage, the isolation, the absolute loss of hope… all there.”

“It never goes away, does it?” Severus asked.

“I thought it might,” Harry said. “After the war. Then after I quit my job. But it’s all still there. Never truly fades.” He pulled back slightly, forcing Severus to look at him. “But lately I’ve been seeing some reasons to start working with a different spectrum of colours.”

Severus didn’t fight Harry’s kiss. It was soft, gentle, and yearning, everything that Severus needed at that precise moment. In the midst of this horrible day, he’d been able to find the one thread of comfort in this whole blasted universe. He hadn’t earned it, and he certainly didn’t deserve it. But for this moment, he would take it for his.

~*~

“We have a name,” Shacklebolt said. He pointed his wand at the wall, and an image of a thin, haggard-looking man was projected before them. His skin was pallid and his long, black hair was a stringy mess. Severus tried not to think of how much the man resembled himself at a younger age. “John Jacobi.”

Severus blinked and rubbed his eyes. He and Harry had fallen asleep on the couch together well into the early hours of the morning. His body was creaking and he felt as though he could fall asleep at any moment. And after such a traumatic day as yesterday, he didn’t feel equipped to handle any critical developments in this case. But here they were. “Jacobi,” he said. “That sounds familiar.”

“His parents are already in Azkaban,” Weasley said. There were dark circles under his eyes, but Severus had to admit he was holding up fairly well for a man who’d just seen a vital part of his team killed the day before. “Roger and Nerys Jacobi. Arrested more than a decade ago for attempted murder of their son, dear John over here.”

“Family squabbles, how charming,” Severus drawled.

“A lifetime of abuse,” Weasley continued. “Roger never hesitated to cause his son bodily harm, whether through wand or fist. But Nerys was even more twisted. She’d shower John with gifts, comfort him after Roger’s abuse… and then, when she had fully gained his devotion, would torture him herself. Then she’d _Obliviate_ him and start the cycle all over again.” Weasley shook his head in disgust. “She told the Wizengamot she loved the look of betrayal in his eyes.”

Severus frowned. “And the youngest Jacobi? What happened to him before he decided he was the Creator?”

“Completely disappeared after the trial,” Weasley said. “He’d been seeing a Healer at St Mungo’s. All of those memory charms wreaked havoc on his mind. After a routine therapy session, all of the memories of his mother’s abuse returned. He was gone the next morning. Nobody’s heard a word from him since.”

“So we can confirm this is a madman,” Severus said. “As if there were any doubt.”

“Indeed,” Shacklebolt said. “But at least now that we know his identity, perhaps we can better tailor our approach to his capture.”

Severus felt his face burn. Ignoring all the furtive looks coming his way, he looked down at the scroll before him. “Well? What else do we know?”

Three hours later, they knew all about John Jacobi’s childhood, his complete medical history, and how he did in school. Severus was certain if they stayed in that room much longer, he would also hear what type of pants he preferred and his favourite flavour of ice cream. What they still didn’t know, of course, was where he was located, what was it in his mad mind that made him think he was the Creator, or why he had singled out Harry as his masterpiece Creation. 

Desperate to escape the Ministry, Severus fled the second Shacklebolt indicated they should pause for lunch. He was hurrying through the Atrium when a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Severus!”

Severus turned to face the voice. “Harry. What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d stop by,” Harry said, moving closer to him. He lowered his voice. “You were gone before I woke up this morning. I was… well, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Of course,” Severus said. “I apologise. I realise it was a late night, and I didn’t want you to lose any more sleep on my account.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Harry said. He hesitantly reached for Severus’ hands. “Is this okay?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You’d be so quick to destroy your reputation in the eyes of your former colleagues?”

Harry grinned. “I always liked to keep them on their toes.”

“Very well,” Severus said. “I won’t protest then.”

“Good,” Harry said. “Were you off to lunch? Mind if I join you?”

Severus inclined his head. “I’d be honoured.”

“Honoured, eh?” With a wide smile on his face, Harry leaned up and pressed his lips to Severus’. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

Severus blinked. He still wasn’t used to Harry so freely gracing him with kisses and gentle touches. But to be kissed in public, with hundreds of people walking around? Severus knew he should be snarling in protest, pushing Harry away. That is, if he were acting as his true self, and not the part of doting suitor that Shacklebolt expected him to play. But even ignoring that unpleasant reminder, Severus felt no inclination to reject Harry. Rather, he felt… proud.

“Quite all right,” he said. He took Harry’s arm. “Shall we?”

Walking through the Ministry of Magic with Harry Potter on his arm, holding his head high as people turned to stare at the odd pairing… once upon a time Severus would have shuddered at the very thought of it. Now he would describe the feeling as less shuddering and more of an odd fluttering in his chest.

And the fact that Weasley was staring at them both, a look of fury upon his face, was just the icing on the cake.

But for now, his attention was on Harry, who was clasping his arm. “Yeah,” Harry said. “Let’s go.”

~*~

“Are you positive you didn’t mind? My coming to see you today at the Ministry, I mean.”

Severus sighed and set down his glass of wine. “Harry, when have you ever known me to smile and go along with anything I didn’t agree with?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly _smiling_ ,” Harry said.

“I’m quite certain I was,” Severus replied. “My lips most assuredly curled.”

“Did they?” Harry teased, sidling closer to Severus on the couch. “I feel I would have noticed that.”

“Good thing you’re no longer an Auror,” Severus said blithely. “You’ve grown terribly unobservant.”

“Observe this,” Harry said, and leaned in to treat Severus to a heated, languid kiss. 

“Mmm,” Severus said. “You’ve been remarkably bold tonight. Is there any particular reason why?”

Hesitation flickered across Harry’s eyes, and he pulled away slightly. “I thought perhaps we could talk.”

“Talk,” Severus repeated. “I was under the impression that’s what we’ve been doing all night.”

“I mean about us,” Harry said. 

“Ah,” Severus said. Suddenly, despite the multiple glasses of wine he’d had that night, he felt remarkably sober. “What would you like to discuss?”

“Well, I came by your work today,” Harry said. “People saw.”

“Indeed,” Severus replied. “Having second thoughts?”

“No!” Harry blurted. “No. It’s just… well, if you were trying to keep this under wraps, we kind of blew it there. And I was thinking that if you didn’t mind people knowing we were… kissing, then perhaps you wouldn’t mind if we were… you know.”

“Just come out with it,” Severus said.

“This sounds so stupid,” Harry mumbled. “Fine. If we made it official.”

“You’re not speaking of marriage,” Severus said, horrified.

“No! Of course not. I just mean that if somebody asked if we were in a relationship, I could say yes.”

“You can say whatever you like,” Severus said, glancing away.

“But would I be lying?”

Severus sighed. Merlin, how had it gotten this far? All his assignment had been was to get close to Harry, to ensure he was shielded and protected from a madman with a god complex. And instead he was sitting here, contemplating the state of their relationship. What’s more, he very much _wanted_ to be in this relationship.

And would that be so horrible? To affirm his feelings to Harry and carry on what had been a surprisingly blissful couple of weeks? Of course, in time the truth about the Creator and why Severus initially pursued Harry would come out, but Severus could deal with it then. _Or perhaps I could have a few strong words with Shacklebolt, Weasley, and Longbottom before any of that happens._

Fuck it. He’d sort out that problem later. Right now he had a brave, compassionate, handsome young man who wanted to be with him. Perhaps once upon a time, when he was a younger, stronger man, he could have denied himself. But he had grown weak, and there was only one possible answer now.

“No,” he said finally. “You wouldn’t.”

The broad grin that broke across Harry’s face made it all worth it. “Brilliant,” he said, and kissed him deeply. “Brilliant.”

Severus pulled Harry towards him and relaxed into the kiss. This was easy. This was something he could do. He could be with Harry. He’d done well so far. How much harder could it get?

The thought reminded him of a certain part of his anatomy that, at that very moment, was very, _very_ hard.

“Harry…”

“Sev – mmph! Maggie!”

Severus growled in frustration as Harry moved to shoo his dog away. “Does she always accost your visitors?”

“Don’t really have many, to be honest,” Harry said, leading Maggie to her bed in the corner of the room. He grinned up at Severus. “You kind of spoiled me for other men.”

“Pardon?”

“You didn’t know?” Harry asked. Having gotten Maggie settled in bed with a squeaky toy she was happily chewing on, he took Severus’ hands. “I’ve had a thing for you for ages. Since I was in school, if I’m being totally honest.” He grinned, shaking his head. “Ron always thought I was mad. So did I, half the time.”

“I’d still call you quite mad,” Severus said. 

“Perhaps,” Harry said. He glanced back at Maggie. “I give her five minutes before she gets bored. Would you like to go upstairs? We can… close the door.”

Which was how Severus found himself naked and crouching over an equally naked Harry in his bedroom with the door safely closed and locked. 

Harry was, predictably, gorgeous. From his broad shoulders to his rapidly hardening erection all the way down to his feet that were currently pressing into Severus’ back, he was utter perfect, Even though Harry was living a quiet life as a painter, he still retained the toned muscles he gained as an Auror. Severus lined Harry’s body with kisses, eager to memorise every square inch of it. He knew he could do this every single day of his life and still feel as though he hadn’t gotten his fill.

“Hey,” Harry said. His head fell back, and Severus took the opportunity to nuzzle his face in the nape of his neck. “Oh. But can we slow it down a bit?”

Severus froze. “Do you not want this?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. That should be pretty clear.” As if for emphasis, he slowly thrust his pelvis up towards Severus, letting his cock rub against his stomach. “I just want to see you, too.”

Severus felt his face burn. “There’s not terribly much to see, I assure you. Skin and bones and scars.” 

“I’ve got all of those too,” Harry said. He flipped them over so he was now straddling Severus’ hips. “Didn’t seem to stop you from licking every last spot and freckle.”

“It’s far more appealing on you,” Severus said. 

But that didn’t seem to stop Harry. Slowly, he made his way down Severus’ body, leaving soft kisses all along the way. It was all Severus could do not to buck up into his touch like a nervous schoolboy. Harry’s touch was firm but tender, and he moved with far more patience than Severus would have anticipated from him. When he reached Severus’ prick, he paused. “Ready?”

Apparently not waiting for a response, Harry licked Severus’ cock from root to tip.

“Fuck, Harry!” 

If Severus though Harry was gifted in the art of foreplay, he was a bloody master at fellatio. While he licked and sucked at Severus’ prick, he worked his bollocks with his hand. And somehow, Severus could only guess by sheer magical Chosen One instinct, Harry was able to find the exact spot at the base of Severus’ cock that set his entire body on fire. He had the tongue of a demon, and Severus didn’t mind one bit.

“Harry… Harry,” Severus gasped. “You should stop.”

Harry glanced up, and Severus groaned all over again. He was sure there would be many a night he wanked to this very image, of Harry gazing at him with lust-filled eyes with his cock in his mouth.

“Why?” Harry asked. He gave Severus’ prick another long lick. “I quite like it.”

“I do too,” Severus said. “Rather too much, if we’re going to do anything else this evening.”

Harry grinned. “Brilliant.” He reached for the bedside table pulled out a jar of lubricant. “Been thinking about this for a while.”

“Oh, have you?” Severus asked, taking the jar in his hands. He gestured at Harry, who rolled over onto his belly and presented his arse to Severus. Severus coated his fingers with the lubricant and carefully worked one into Harry’s opening. “What do you think about?”

“You fucking me,” Harry said immediately. “In my bed, in the shower, against a wall. Just you and me and hot and – oh, _fuck_ , right there.”

“Indeed,” Severus said, pressing that spot one more time. He was rewarded with a loud keening. “And how do you imagine me fucking you?”

“Hard,” Harry said. “I think of you pounding into me, making me shout with every stroke, and you… oh, _Severus_! You’re kissing me and fucking me and you scream out my name.”

Severus moaned and gripped the base of his prick. He’d hoped the act of preparing Harry would dampen his arousal, but had no such luck. 

“Severus, please,” Harry said. “I need to see you. I want to watch you fuck me. _Please._ ”

Severus stretched his fingers. Harry was still a bit tighter than he would have liked. “Are you certain you’re ready?”

“Yes!” Harry said. He turned over and faced Severus, his prick hard and red. “Come on. Do it.” 

Never one to refuse a direct order, Severus liberally coated his prick with more of the lubricant and placed the tip at Harry’s entrance. “Harry,” he whispered.

“Go on,” Harry said, more quietly but just as urgently. His hands reached for Severus’ buttocks, pulling him closer. “Please.”

Fucking Harry was the most exquisite sensation Severus had ever known. He was hot and tight around him, forcing Severus to resort quite early on to reciting potions ingredients in his head to prevent himself from coming too soon. He thrust in and out, slowly at first, savouring the feeling of knowing he was inside Harry, that it was Harry who was gasping his name and reaching up to place kisses wherever he could reach.

“More,” Harry moaned. “Harder. Come on, Severus. I need to feel it.”

It was all too much. Severus pounded in and out of Harry’s body, noises escaping from his lips he knew he’d be embarrassed about later but couldn’t give a damn at the moment. Harry met him thrust for thrust, his words of encouragement occasionally swallowed up by his moans. He held onto Severus tight, forcing him to continue moving.

“Fuck, Severus,” Harry shouted. “Gonna come.”

“Do it,” Severus rasped. “Come for me.”

It took one, two, three more thrusts, and Harry was crying out Severus’ name with his release. Severus followed soon afterwards, collapsing upon Harry in a boneless heap.

“Merlin,” Harry said, stroking Severus’ sweat-soaked back. “That was fantastic.”

Severus drew several deep breaths, attempting to get his heart rate back to normal. “Yes,” he agreed. “Indeed. About what you expected?”

“Better,” Harry said happily. He reached for his wand and cleaned up the mess between them before settling into Severus’ arms. “I couldn’t have even dreamed of this.”

Severus stroked Harry’s hair. It was soft, and Severus had an odd thought that it might be very nice to rest his face against. “I’m pleased.”

“Nowhere near as pleased as I am, I reckon,” Harry said. He pressed his lips to Severus’ chest. “Will you stay the night?”

“If you like,” Severus said, his fingers still playing with Harry’s strands.

“I would,” Harry said. His voice was starting to fade, as though he’d fall asleep at any moment. “And you’ll wake me before you go?”

“It’ll be early, likely before the sun even comes up,” Severus warned. “I have to be at the Ministry by five.”

“That’s okay,” Harry said. “Just want to kiss you goodbye.”

“You’re a bit of a sop,” Severus said, amused.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I reckon I am. But you’re one to talk.”

“I?” Severus asked. “I assure you. I’m nothing of the kind.”

“You can lie all you want,” Harry said. “I know your secret. Knew it from the very beginning.”

Severus’ fingers froze in Harry’s hair. “Know what, exactly?”

“That you put up more wards the first night you came by, of course,” Harry said. He yawned. “And strengthened my old ones. I’m still an Auror, you know. I pick up on these things.”

His heart beating once again, Severus exhaled. “And why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t want to,” Harry said. His voice was so quiet now that Severus had to strain to hear it. “I liked that you were still trying to protect me. Made me think that maybe… maybe there was something more.”

“Ah,” Severus said. He wanted to say more, something about how that was never his intention but that Harry of all people needed protection, but quickly realised it was a lost cause. Harry was fast asleep in his arms.

Now, his body freed from both the effects of alcohol and the pleasure gained from Harry’s kisses, he could see his future in a very grim light. Harry would find out eventually. Too many people close to him knew the truth. The best Severus could hope for was that Harry would grow to trust him enough to know that no matter how this whole affair had begun, Severus’ feelings were true. From now on, that would be Severus’ top priority, right along with making sure that blasted Jacobi (he would never refer to him as the Creator again, not now that he knew his true name) never got his hands on Harry. He would ensure Harry had no doubt as to his feelings for him.

His conviction set, Severus closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, Harry safe in his arms.

~*~

“You’re late.”

Severus glanced up from his notes. “I apologise, Minister. I was delayed this morning.” _Yes, delayed by a rather spectacular early morning blow job._

“It’s no matter. You’ve been pulling long hours on this case,” Shacklebolt said, his gaze firm upon Severus’. “And I realise some of your work has been… unconventional. It’s understandable you might need some extra rest now and then.”

“I’ll rest more when Jacobi is captured,” Severus said. “Have you read this report that he might be connected with the Parkinson family?”

“Severus,” Shacklebolt said. “There’s been a complaint.”

“About?”

“Your behaviour with Harry Potter.”

Severus frowned. _Weasley._ “I do believe I was instructed to get close to him so I could offer increased protection.”

“Yes, you were,” Shacklebolt said. “I admit, however, I was not expecting you to take this duty so far.”

“I don’t see what business it is of the Ministry how I spend my personal time,” Severus said. “I may not have much of a social life, but I am entitled to have one.”

“Yes, you are,” Shacklebolt said. “And normally I wouldn’t say a word.”

“Minister, is this complaint a valid one that would be issued on my record, or is Weasley just put out that his best friend is spending his evenings with me?”

“Somewhere between the two, I’d say,” Shacklebolt replied. “Severus, you must know I hold a great deal of affection for Harry. He was one of my best Aurors. Even before that, he always has been a remarkable young man.”

“Yes,” Severus said. “I’m quite aware of this.”

“Then I’m sure you’re also aware that Weasley does have a valid point. He doesn’t wish for Harry to get hurt when he realises the reason you were courting him.”

Severus frowned. “And what if I had no intention of ever allowing Harry to learn that was the reason our relationship began?”

“Well, if you _were_ in fact pursuing a legitimate relationship with Harry…”

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, interesting.” Shacklebolt nodded his head, looking rather thoughtful. “I’ll admit I hadn’t expected this. Truly, Severus?”

Severus nodded tightly. Merlin, this was mortifying, but he wasn’t about to have a spot on his record due to Weasley’s whinging.

“I’m conflicted,” Shacklebolt said. “Believe me, Severus, I’m quite fond of you as well, even though I know you don’t like to hear it. And if you and Harry make each other happy, then that should be all there is to say.” He paused. “But the fact of the matter is you have a duty right now to protect Harry and to help us capture Jacobi. I fear any sort of… extra affection towards Harry might serve as a distraction, and in fact do more harm than good. I would want your regard for him to cloud your judgment in any way.”

“I’m perfectly capable of doing my job, regardless of what goes on in my personal life,” Severus snapped.

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” Shacklebolt said. “All of a sudden it makes your work just that: personal. That can complicate things.”

“Are you telling me to choose between my job and Harry?” Severus demanded.

“Of course not,” Shacklebolt said. “I would never ask you to do that. I only ask that you exercise extreme care.”

Severus nodded. “Very well.”

“Thank you, Severus,” Shacklebolt said. “I’ll be sure to tell the colleague who issued the complaint that the issue has been addressed.”

“You can also tell him where he can shove his wand,” Severus muttered.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing, sir. Just thinking about where Jacobi could be this morning.”

Shacklebolt nodded, then glanced upwards at the ceiling. “Have you ever noticed that your office is a bit dim?”

Severus rolled his eyes and returned to his work. He knew he’d need another cup of tea soon just to get rid of this headache. Merlin, why hadn’t anybody warned him how complicated relationships could be?

Fortunately, he had another dinner date with Harry tonight. Hopefully the sight of Harry’s smile and the feeling of his lips against his own would allow him to forget all of that.

~*~

That night Severus blew Harry in the middle of his art studio.

It was a rather fascinating position, being surrounded by Harry’s paintings of grief and anger, all while engaged in the most exquisite activity Severus could recall. Severus thought perhaps he was becoming an artist after all, since he was sitting here, licking the last of Harry’s come from his cock, pondering the aesthetics of the scene around them.

“Wow,” Harry said, pulling Severus up and into his arms. “You’re incredible. You know that?”

“You’re quite inspiring,” Severus said, and kissed Harry deeply. 

Harry arched into the kiss, grasping Severus’ hair. “I thought of this too, you know,” Harry said in between kisses. “Although I always envisioned us covered in more paint.”

“Is that so?” Severus asked. “I hadn’t realised you had quite so vivid an imagination. Have you pictured us in any other locations?”

“Mmm, yes,” Harry said. “Over your desk at the Ministry. On the beach. Dancing in a club, and you sneak your hand into the waistband of my trousers…”

“I don’t dance,” Severus murmured, sucking at the base of Harry’s neck.

“I bet I could get you to,” Harry said. He gasped. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Severus growled. Although Harry had tended to him quite thoroughly not much earlier, his prick was still showing signs of renewed interest.

“Severus…”

A loud crash interrupted them.

“Shit!” Harry exclaimed. 

“I suppose that’s one of the hazards of shagging in an art studio,” Severus said, moving to clean up the mess. “Easels and paint everywhere.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, righting the easel they had knocked over. “Still say it was worth it.” 

“That painting is ruined, though,” Severus commented. Indeed, what once had been a rather stirring painting reminiscent of an ocean during a storm was now splashed with bright turquoise and yellow. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said. He held up the painting to examine it. “I kind of like it.”

“Really?” Severus asked. He came up behind Harry and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Doesn’t the brightness seem a bit out of place from the rest of your portfolio?”

“Maybe at first,” Harry said. “And this painting still needs a bit of finishing. But I think with some time I’ll get used to it. And it will be nice to explore some different colours.”

“Merlin help us if you start painting in pinks and lilacs,” Severus muttered. “Your studio will begin to resemble an Easter egg.”

“I don’t think we’re in danger of that happening,” Harry said with a laugh. “Can’t forget your roots, after all.”

“True enough.”

Harry chuckled. “Looks like you’re a little more brightly coloured yourself.” He held up Severus’ hand, which was splattered with the turquoise paint. 

“Imagine that,” Severus said. “If I didn’t know better, I would say this was all an elaborate scheme on your part to have us live out your licentious fantasy of copulating on this very floor as we cover ourselves with paint.”

Harry turned around in Severus’ arms and reached down to squeeze his bum. “Any objections?”

“Not a one,” Severus said, and bent down to kiss Harry once more.

~*~

“You’re glowing.”

Severus ignored Draco, and instead concentrated on adding a single spoonful of sugar to his tea. Typically he preferred not to contaminate his favourite beverage untainted by sweeteners, but after spending so much time with Harry, who seemed to prefer sugar with a dash of tea, it appeared some of his traits had rubbed off on him. 

_Among other things._

“And blushing,” Draco continued, sounding far too amused. “Good memories of last night?”

“Draco, the conversation you are attempting to have with me is entirely inappropriate for the workplace,” Severus said, stirring his tea. 

“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” Draco said. “But since you’re so concerned about your colleagues having inappropriate conversations with you, I’m sure you already know there’s something on your neck.”

Severus only allowed himself a second of panic that Harry had left a visible love bite before regaining his composure. “Yes, some rather ugly scars. Giant snake attacked me a few years back. I’m sure you remember.”

“Ah, of course,” Draco said. “Only I hadn’t realised snakes left turquoise scars.”

Severus clasped a hand to his neck and moved to a window. In the reflection he could just make out a small splotch of paint on his neck. Cursing under his breath, he used his wand to remove the mark.

Underneath was a love bite.

“Potter paints now, doesn’t he?”

Severus growled.

Draco laughed. “Come now, Severus. I think it’s wonderful.” 

“Draco, for the last -- _fuck_!” 

Severus clutched his head, trying not to allow the pain radiating there to cloud his thoughts. He’d grown so accustomed to checking in on Harry through the link and finding only pleasant emotions – hope, happiness, lust – that he found himself entirely unequipped to face this change. 

Fear. Resolve. _Steel._

It seemed that, despite his quite retirement, Harry Potter was still quite the warrior. 

“Harry,” he bit out. “In danger. Surrounded. His home.” He raised his wand, prepared to sound the alarm. “I suggest you run.”

~*~

Severus Apparated directly into Harry’s living room. The rest of the team was strategically positioning themselves throughout the entire house, but Severus wanted to be where it was the most important. 

“Don’t even raise your wand,” Severus shouted, reaching an arm around Harry. “We’re taking you to a safe house.”

“Like hell you are!” Harry said, wresting himself away. “They’re surrounding my home!” 

Indeed, they were. From the windows Severus could see hundreds of Creations circling Harry’s home, a nearly blinding light emanating from the group. They looked peaceful, serene, but Severus wasn’t fooled.

“They’ll burn your house to the ground if they feel threatened,” Severus said, shooing the wildly barking Maggie away from him. “Don’t give them a reason to.”

“They want me,” Harry said. “Doesn’t sound like they’d risk killing me.”

“What are you –”

“Listen!”

Muting the sound of his rapidly beating heart, Severus turned his attention to the Creations waiting outside. For the first time since the Aurors had started tracking them, they were speaking. What’s more, they were all speaking as one, their voices an ethereal monotone that grew louder with each word.

“Come with us, Harry Potter,” they chanted. “Come meet the Creator.”

“They’re coming closer!” Weasley shouted, bursting into the room. “Snape, get him out of here. We can’t hold them all back.”

“I’m not leaving you all here,” Harry snapped. “It’s my house. I’m not letting any of you die here for me.”

“Harry, would you just shut up a minute and let us do our jobs?” Weasley demanded. “We don’t know everything about these things. Who knows if Snape’s wards will even hold? Just go with Snape and get. Out.”

“Ron, I won’t – ” Harry froze. “How did you know about Severus’ wards?”

Seizing the opportunity, Severus grabbed Harry with one hand and Maggie’s collar with the other and immediately Disapparated.

“My apologies,” Severus said when they had landed. “But my job is to keep you safe.”

Harry nodded. Maggie was whinging, and he absently scratched the top of her head. His brow was furrowed and his mouth tight.

“This house is unplottable,” Severus said. “I suspect the Creations will leave once they realise you’re no longer inside, but we should consider your home no longer safe.”

Harry nodded.

“The kitchen should already be stocked,” Severus said. “While we’d hoped you wouldn’t need to be removed from your home, we’ve been preparing for the possibility ever since the threat revealed itself.”

Harry remained silent.

“I even arranged for a squeaky toy or two for Maggie. I expect she’ll find them soon enough.”

Harry crossed his arms. “How did Ron know you put wards up at my house?”

Though his heart was pounding madly in his chest, Severus fought to maintain a neutral expression upon his face. “We’re working together. It must have come out at some point.”

“But you and Ron aren’t mates,” Harry continued, his voice flat. “You don’t talk unless you have to.”

“And you’re a high-profile wizard, Harry. Come now, you can’t think that we don’t discuss your protection when a case like this comes about?”

“But that’s just it,” Harry said. He almost sounded as though he was talking to himself. “It’s your job. Even just now, you said it was your job to protect me. And Ron only talks to you about work. Right?”

“Harry,” Severus said, reaching out for him.

But Harry shrugged off the contact. “And Ron’s been telling me to go slow with you. He’s said it a million times. That I shouldn’t get too close because you never know…”

“Harry.”

“Why did you sit with me that first night?” Harry asked, looking straight at Severus. 

“Because I wanted to,” Severus said.

Harry shook his head. “No. No, that was right when this case was starting. Literally. Ron stood me up that night because of it, and you just happened to be there. And you’d barely even talked to me before that. And suddenly all this happened.” 

“Harry, I promise you. While my job may dictate I play a strong role in seeing to your safety, the time I’ve been spending with you – ”

“Is because you were told to,” Harry interjected. “Weren’t you?”

“Harry.”

“How did you even know to come to my house tonight?” Harry asked. “I know the wards you put on. There’s no monitoring spell on them. I checked.”

Severus swallowed. And so this is how it would end. He had known it wouldn’t last forever, but he’d hoped…

Ah, but there was no time for that now.

“A potion,” Severus said. He forced his voice to remain cool, even. “It was a potion that I slipped into your drink when you stepped outside to take Weasley’s call.” 

Harry blanched, and Severus felt his stomach drop even further. He’d never seen such a look upon Harry’s face. Even back when he was a student, Harry had only ever shown him rage, disgust, and defiance. But this expression, this look of absolute betrayal, was enough to cut Severus to the core. 

“That’s impossible,” Harry whispered. “You can’t do that with a potion.”

“Most people can’t,” Severus conceded. “I can.”

“So you knew when I was in danger?” Harry asked.

“Your location and your emotions, yes.”

“My _emotions_?” Harry asked. “So all this time we were… we were… you knew exactly what I was thinking? What I was _feeling_?”

“Never,” Severus said firmly. “Harry, I swear to you, I never checked in on the link while we were together. It was strictly to ensure you were safe. And it will wear off in a week.”

Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe this. All this time I thought we were…” He drew a deep breath. “Get out.”

“Harry, I can explain,” Severus said, even though he knew he never could. Not fully. Not now, when he was watching all his greatest fears come to fruition.

“No,” Harry said. “I really, _really_ need you to leave.”

“Not until another Auror arrives,” Severus said, attempting another approach. 

That effort was, of course, thwarted when Weasley Apparated beside them. “They left,” he said. “Managed to take twelve into custody and tracked the others.” He clapped Harry on the shoulder. “How are you holding up, mate? Sorry for the home invasion.”

Harry whirled around. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Weasley’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”

Severus cleared his throat. “Harry, you must know, everything we did was entirely to ensure your protection.”

“Get _out_ , Severus!”

A second later, Severus found himself outside on the doorstep. He pounded on the door for several minutes, desperate to get back in even if he had no idea what he would say, but it was no use. Not that he was entirely surprised. If Harry was furious enough to lose control of his magic, he wasn’t likely about to open the door for him. 

Severus closed his eyes and leaned against the door. Merlin, how could it have come to this? He wasn’t one for love. He should have been able to slip in and out of this assignment. He’d gone decades without anybody having this kind of effect on him. What were the odds that Harry Potter would be the one to bring Severus Snape to his knees? 

Sighing, he opened his eyes and reluctantly made his way down the street. Eventually he would Apparate to his office, but for now, Severus needed the time to be alone with his thoughts, to think about all that he had gained over the last few weeks and all that he had lost.

~*~

Severus was being held by a pair of strong arms. He curled up closer into the embrace, savouring the feeling of warmth sweeping over him. He was both kissing and being kissed, and while the details were all a blissful haze, the colours surrounding them assured him it was truly a magnificent experience. 

_Just a little while longer…_

“You just couldn’t keep your prick in your pants, could you?”

Severus startled awake. He’d never made it home last night, instead falling asleep in his office chair while reading through notes from Jacobi’s old teachers. Eyes narrowing, he glowered at Weasley. “I don’t believe I gave you leave to enter my office.”

“I really don’t give a damn,” Weasley said, slamming the door behind him. “Spent all night last night letting Harry have a go at me, even though absolutely none of this was my fault. Sorry I don’t care about interrupting your beauty sleep.”

“Ah, yes, Ronald Weasley the Innocent,” Severus drawled. “I’d forgotten how pure of heart you are.”

“Oh, shut it, Snape,” Weasley said. “I was only doing my job.”

“As, I believe, was I,” Severus replied.

“Oh, no you weren’t,” Weasley snapped. “Your _job_ was to get just close enough to Harry that you’d be able to offer him additional protection. Nowhere in your orders did it say to seduce him.”

“I didn’t _seduce_ him,” Severus said. 

“No, you just broke his heart!” Weasley shouted. “And now it’s _my_ fault for not telling him. Somehow _I’m_ the one who betrayed his trust.”

Severus frowned. “What did you say?”

“That’s right,” Weasley said. “Somehow Harry decided this whole fiasco is my fault, even though I said it was a horrible idea from the very beginning. Merlin forbid the one who actually manipulated his emotions pays any sort of consequences. “

“Not that, you idiot,” Severus said. “His heart.”

“Well, of course his heart. Fuck, Snape,” Weasley scoffed. “I didn’t realise you were _that_ emotionally stunted. Poor sod’s in love with you.”

“He’s not,” Severus whispered.

“Of course he is,” Weasley said. “Always has been, though Merlin knows why. I thought he’d get over it, but then you had to go and make him think he might actually have a chance. As though _you_ would know anything about love. It’d require you to think of somebody other than yourself.”

Severus slumped in his chair, his head spinning. He knew Harry cared for him. That was obvious. But _love_? It was a heavy word, one that Severus never expected to hear in any context related to himself. It didn’t even matter that Weasley was describing the emotion with the utmost scorn and derision. He, Severus Snape, was loved.

Of course, that was all destroyed now. And what’s more, Weasley was correct. It was all Severus’ fault.

“Don’t go playing sick with me, Snape,” Weasley said. “That expression you have on your face is only a few stages past your usual look. I’m not falling for that.”

Severus drew a deep breath. “Leave, Weasley.”

“Like hell I am!”

“You’re accomplishing nothing,” Severus said. “Why not direct your energy to a more practical purpose?”

“Don’t patronise me, Snape,” Weasley snarled. “Maybe you could get away with it when I was a student, but not any longer. You hurt my best friend, and now you think you’ll just get to sit back and have everything go back to normal? Fuck that.”

“You know nothing,” Severus said, his voice low. “Now get. Out.”

“I’m telling you, Snape…”

“ _Get_ \-- ahhh!” 

Severus seized his head, breathing heavily through the pain. “Harry,” he gasped. “He’s gone after them.”

“That’s impossible,” Weasley said. “He has no way of knowing where they are.”

“This is Harry bloody Potter,” Severus snapped, standing. “Of course it’s possible.”

“Right,” Weasley said. “I’ll sound the alarm.”

“I don’t have time for that,” Severus said. Concentrating on the link to Harry, he closed his eyes and Disapparated.

~*~

Severus found Harry in the middle of a forest. Despite the thousands of towering trees, the area was shrouded in light, enough so that Severus had to blink several times to adjust to his new surroundings. Scattered amidst the trees were hundreds of Jacobi’s Creations, two of whom were flanking Harry. Not wanting to reveal himself just yet, Severus hid behind a rather bushy pine.

“He is here, Creator,” the Creations chanted, hundreds of voices sounding as one. “He has come. He will bring us light.”

Harry, for his part, looked more or less the same. He was paler than normal, to be sure, and his face seemed rather strained, but he did not have the same dead expression as the Creations. Severus tentatively reached out through the link; while the connection was fainter now, he could still detect determination and desperation, but not a hint of fear. _Interesting._

There was a burst of flame, and then Jacobi was standing before them. All of the Creations immediately fell to their knees, but Harry remained standing.

“Harry Potter,” Jacobi said. His voice had the same melodious quality as his Creations, and it appeared to echo in the trees. “Welcome. I was so pleased you finally decided to join us.”

“I never said I’d join you,” Harry said.

“But how could you not?” Jacobi asked. “I know your story.”

Harry laughed humourlessly. “You’re going to have to try a little better than that. The entire Wizarding world knows my story.”

“I don’t think they do, Harry Potter,” Jacobi said. He inched closer to Harry. “Locked in a cupboard, denied food and water, wearing clothes several sizes too large for your frame. You were abandoned, betrayed by the ones entrusted to care for you.” He reached out, one long finger trailing down Harry’s cheek. “We are so much alike.”

“I’m warning you. You _don’t_ want to touch me,” Harry ground out.

“Fine, fine,” Jacobi said, holding up his hands. “But think about it, Harry. You remember the pain, don’t you? The utter despair? Feeling as though you would only know darkness?”

“I don’t see how any of this is relevant,” Harry said. Severus could just make out his hand tightening around his wand.

“It never truly leaves you, does it?” Jacobi asked. From their prone positions, the Creations all made sounds of agreement. “You go about your day, trying to pass by as a normal bloke, but you know how it will all end. You will always be alone. You will always be in pain. But I can take that away, Harry. I can make you know bliss.”

“And that’s what you’ve done with these people, is it?” Harry demanded. “Took away their pain, and their minds while you’re at it?”

“I showed them mercy,” Jacobi said. “More mercy than anybody else in their life ever has. They’ll never again feel anger, or jealousy, or rage. They’ll never again be touched by hurt or betrayal.”

“And they’ll never feel love again,” Harry said. “You’ve robbed them of all emotion.”

“Oh, you misunderstand me,” Jacobi said. “They feel love and devotion and complete and utter peace. They know that _I_ would never betray them.”

“And you want me to be one of them?” Harry asked.

“Oh, no,” Jacobi said. “You’ll be at the head, like me. We shall be partners, Harry. They’ll be equally dedicated to the pair of us.”

“I don’t want that,” Harry spat. “Unlike you, I never wanted to be worshipped.”

“Neither do I, Harry, neither do I,” Jacobi said. “But I’m willing to make the sacrifice for the greater good.”

“The greater good?”

“World peace,” Jacobi said. “I bring world peace. By removing those nasty human emotions, I have eradicated all conflict. But I need _more._ It’s useless to have such a small army of these beautiful Creations. They’ll only be attacked by those vile, unchanged ones. It’s why I had to take certain precautions, ensure they could protect themselves.” He kneeled down and stroked the quivering back of the woman bowing next to him. “It is the only flaw in my plan. Such beauty is so easily destroyed.”

“And you think I’d help you with this?” Harry asked.

“It would be incredible,” Jacobi said. “You see, the process is a bit frightening, I admit. Such intense light, revealing itself as fire, imparts a natural instinct to be afraid. That is, until the change is complete. Then there is no fear. But if they see _you_ , Harry, whom they love and adore, and see that you were unafraid and faced the flames in order to live a happier life, to ensure the world sees peace, then they would be lining up in droves to join us. Our vision would come to fruition so much sooner. So, _so_ much sooner.”

“You’re mad,” Harry muttered. “Absolutely mad.”

Jacobi frowned as he stood up. “You think me mad to seek purity amongst the filth of humanity? To wish to help others achieve a new and better life? I thought that was your own mission in life. You, who takes in and defends the most despicable of life forms. That stray dog you took in, that Death Eater you took to your bed…”

Severus tensed as Harry raised his wand. “Shut up,” Harry said, his voice deadly cold.

“Ah, that hurts, doesn’t it?” Jacobi asked, sounding pleased. “You’re in pain. It’s ripping you apart, isn’t it?”

“Shut. Up.”

“You thought the best of him, but he failed you. Again. It’s not truly his fault. It’s human nature. Flawed, imperfect human beings, incapable of innocence. We can save him too, Harry. I promise you. The two of you will be together, and you’ll never feel the pain of a broken heart again.”

“I don’t want that,” Harry said, but his voice wasn’t as strong as it was before.

“I think you do,” Jacobi said quietly. He waved his hand, and a golden apple appeared in the air. “I’ve been leaving these for you. I’d so hoped you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to solve the mystery. For everybody else, the apple burns, but for you?” The apple glided closer to Harry, until it was right in front of his face. “It would make you a god.”

“No,” Harry said. The light emanating from the apple cast an eerie glow upon his face. 

“The happiest man in the world,” Jacobi said. “You’d never again have to face the darkness. Together, we’d bring light to all the world. It’s what you’ve always wanted, Harry. Peace. Come. Join me.”

Harry reached out a tentative, shaking hand.

“Harry!” Severus shouted, unable to keep hidden any longer. He ran out from his hiding spot towards Harry. “No!”

Harry turned his head sharply to look at Snape, then once again gripped his wand tightly in his hand. “I never would,” he said, his voice nearly shaking with some emotion that Severus couldn’t identify. His face was wet, and Severus had the sudden realisation he’d been crying. “Never.”

The apple, pulsing with energy, ascended in the air until it was several feet above all of their heads. Severus raised his wand, but he didn’t even have a moment to determine the safest course of action before it exploded, causing bright beams of light to shoot out of it and spread out across the forest.

Uncaring of how Harry felt about him at the moment, Severus reached out and pulled him flush against his body, attempting to shield him from the light. Harry held onto Severus just as tightly, burying his head in Severus’ shoulder. Keeping a watchful eye on the beams, Severus quickly cast a protective shield around the two of them and then squeezed Harry again, grateful to once again be embracing him. 

Severus barely registered it, what with Harry fairly shaking in his arms, but around them Jacobi’s Creations were standing up and shaking their heads, as though they were simply waking up from a long nap. Then, the most extraordinary thing happened.

They turned to each other and, with sounds of the utmost happiness, reached out to hug each other. There was no anger, no fear, no confusion. Severus was not naïve enough to think that wouldn’t come later. But for now, there was only unbridled joy and relief.

“Harry! Are you okay?”

Harry stiffened in Severus’ arms and abruptly pulled away. Severus quickly schooled his face into an indifferent expression. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said to Weasley. 

“Looks like Jacobi’s a bit worse for the wear,” Weasley said. Indeed, Jacobi was huddled against a tree and shaking upon himself. “ _Incarcerous.”_

Harry crossed his arms. “Right. I reckon you have some clean up. I’m just going to head home.”

“Sorry, Harry,” Weasley said. “You’re going to need to come down to the Ministry to give a statement. All we saw when we arrived was that apple exploding.”

Harry quickly glanced over at Severus and then looked down at the ground. “Can I come by later?”

“I’ll be spending the night at the Ministry,” Severus said loudly. “Likely every night this week.”

Harry’s face flushed. “Ron?”

“Well, don’t tell anybody I said so,” Weasley said. “I’ll just say we lost track of you when we were rounding everybody up. Just promise me you’ll stop by soon.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Harry said. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned and began to walk away.

“Wait,” Severus said, reaching for Harry’s arm.

He froze. “This changes nothing,” Harry said.

“Please, Harry,” Severus said. “If I could only have five minutes. I swear it, I never meant to hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Funny how that works out.”

“So this is how it ends?” Severus asked. “After all that, you’re simply going to walk away?”

Harry said nothing.

“Jacobi was right,” Severus said, desperate to induce some sort of emotion in Harry. “You two _are_ alike. Always running from the ugliness in your lives, unwilling to confront it. First you hid from the world, and now you’re hiding from me.”

“Fuck you, Snape,” Harry shouted. 

“Yes,” Severus said. “You’re angry.”

“Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Harry said. “Even before all this started, I trusted you. Now I learn I can’t even do that. And what’s worse, I _loved_ you. Still do, in fact.” He shook his head. “Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Harry,” Severus said, his voice more gentle. “I lo –”

But Harry turned away. “Don’t say it. You don’t even know what it means.”

“Perhaps not,” Severus said. “But with you, it’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to learning. I’d like to explore it more. Please, Harry.”

“I can’t right now,” Harry said. “I just… it hurts too much. I look at you and I can’t stop wondering what was real and what was a lie. It’s just too much.”

Severus sighed. He’d been going on barely any sleep for weeks now, but this was the first time he felt truly exhausted. “But perhaps one day?”

“Maybe,” Harry said. Then, suddenly, he turned around, grabbed Severus around the waist, and pulled him in for a fierce, desperate kiss. When they parted, they were both gasping for breath. “Sorry,” Harry muttered. Then, before Severus could even blink, he Disapparated.

~*~

Harry gave his statement to the Ministry the next morning. Severus was in the room, but Harry refused to even look at him. He simply came in, sat in Shacklebolt’s office, and described how two Creations had appeared at his door. He had, instead of fighting them, simply requested they take him to Jacobi. His words were dull, mechanical, as though he were relating a story that happened to somebody else. The only time he faltered was when Shacklebolt asked him how he managed to destroy the apple.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I just… I couldn’t help it.”

“Couldn’t help what, exactly?” Weasley asked.

“It was too much,” Harry said. “I’d been so stoic before. All I thought about was finding Jacobi and stopping him. But then I heard… _him_. And suddenly I was thinking a million things and it was so overwhelming that I think the apple just couldn’t handle all the emotions.”

“Heard who?” Weasley asked, frowning at his notes. “Jacobi? What did he say to you?”

“No,” Harry said, his face flushing. “It wasn’t him.”

“Then…” Weasley glanced up, looking first at Harry’s troubled face and then Severus’ blank one. “Ah. Sorry.”

“It’s a sound theory,” Shacklebolt said. “Those apples were made to capture the emotions of Jacob’s victims. And Harry, if you were going through an emotional… upheaval, that, combined with the undeniable strength of your magic, could have been more than enough to stretch the apple to its limits.”

“Great,” Harry muttered. “Is that everything?”

“Yes, thank you, Harry,” Shacklebolt said. 

“I’ll see you out,” Severus said quickly, standing.

“That’s not necessary,” Harry said. “I worked here for years. I know my way around.”

“Nonsense,” Severus said. He was well aware of all the eyes upon them, but he refused to give them notice. “I needed to step away for a minute anyway. And I’m afraid if you stay here much longer, you’ll be forced to listen to this group discuss Jacobi’s treatment at St Mungo’s.”

Harry sighed. “Fine.”

When they left Shacklebolt’s office, Severus pulled Harry aside to a secluded alcove in the corridor. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Harry shrugged. “Jacobi didn’t do anything to me.”

“But he almost did.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you were there to rescue me again,” Harry said, his lip quirking slightly.

Severus took comfort at this. It was a small gesture, almost insignificant, but it was the greatest sign of hope he’d seen ever since Harry had discovered the truth. “Always,” Severus said. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I guess that’s true. Should be used to it by now.” He drew a deep breath. “Can you still tell what I’m feeling?”

“No,” Severus said truthfully. “What was left of the connection vanished once the apple exploded.”

Harry nodded. “Good. I didn’t like that.”

“I understand,” Severus said. “But I hope you realise everything we did – everything _I_ did – was only to ensure your safety.”

“I know,” Harry said. “I get it. Ron forced me to listen to him. And Neville.” He sighed. “I know you were all trying to help, but to not have my best friends and my… well, to not have you all tell me Jacobi was targeting me is not exactly the best feeling in the world.”

“It’s the trouble with balancing a personal and a professional life,” Severus said. “Surely you can recall cases where you did not inform citizens of the severity of potential threats towards them. It can often cause unnecessary panic and paranoia.”

“Yeah, but this is me,” Harry said.

“Precisely,” Severus said. “More precautions had to be put in place. You have power, Harry. Power and experience and courage. Three things that have led you directly in harm’s way many times before. We couldn’t take that risk. The department would never allow it.”

Harry frowned. “I still don’t like it.”

Severus snorted. “I expect you don’t.”

Harry glanced up at Severus, his eyes wary. “Do you regret it?”

“Regret what?” Severus asked.

“Seducing me,” Harry said flatly. “Dousing me with that potion.”

“No,” Severus said immediately.

Harry took a step back, pain spreading across his face. “Oh.”

Severus reached for Harry’s wrist. “How could I regret it? You’re safe. You’re alive. And I learned that it is, despite all my claims to the contrary, very possible to fall in love.”

Harry turned white.

“I didn’t set out to seduce you,” Severus said. “I only wished to be close to you, so I could ensure the appropriate precautions were in place and I could warn you if the need arose, or arrange it so I would be close by if the threat came close. What happened was entirely out of my control. I never meant to fall in love with you. I never wanted to. But I did. Completely and irrevocably, simply by being with you. That was all real, Harry. It was the realest emotion I’ve likely ever experienced.”

Harry shook his head. “Stop it.”

“It’s the truth, Harry. I swear it. You can use Legilimency on me if you wish.”

“No,” Harry said, and tugged his arm away. “Merlin, Severus. You’re saying everything I ever dreamed of you saying to me, ever since the Creations first came to my house. But I don’t know if I can believe it. Not after everything that’s happened. Merlin, even those wards that I thought were a sign you really cared for me were just because of your job.” He shook his head. “And I know you said you do have feelings for me, but when I think of how long you kept this secret and all that happened during that time… I just don’t feel I know you.”

“Then let us start over,” Severus said. “Have supper with me tonight. Any place you like.”

“I have plans tonight,” Harry said, but Severus could tell he didn’t.

“Tomorrow, then,” Severus said, undeterred. “Or any night you like. We could even just take Maggie for a damn walk.”

“I have to go,” Harry said.

Severus closed his eyes, feeling the air go out of him. “Very well,” he said. “I would never force you to do anything against your wishes.” He opened his eyes. “But you’ve given me hope, Harry. I’m loathe to relinquish it so soon.”

Harry smiled slightly. “I hope you never do,” he said. Then, with a small wave, he turned on his heel and was gone.

~*~

Severus left work early that day. He cared little what they did with Jacobi, so long as he was not released back to the Wizarding world. Fortunately, given his most recent evaluation at St Mungo’s, that was unlikely to happen any time soon. Beyond that, there was not terribly much happening, and he had no desire to sit around and wait for that to change.

He set out on a walk, along the same path where he had first accidentally on purpose run into Harry that one night at the very start of what he now realised was his descent into the madness that was being in love with Harry Potter. A part of him hoped he would cross paths with Harry once again, perhaps in the exact same spot where Maggie had stopped him, but of course his life did not have that kind of poetic justice.

He knew it would take time. As far as Harry was concerned, Severus had lied to him for weeks, weeks when he thought they were working together to build a passionate relationship. Even though in Severus’ mind that was precisely what they were doing, he couldn’t expect Harry to forgive him overnight.

That didn’t mean Severus liked it, of course.

The entire thing was humiliating. Severus didn’t _grovel_ , but after spending several of the happiest weeks of his life with Harry, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to have him back in his arms. But of course, this was an area where Severus had precious little experience. Never before had there been a man or woman who made him feel so entirely out of his element, and, what’s more, want to remain in that position for the rest of his life.

But he needed to prove to Harry that he was speaking the truth and that their burgeoning romance hadn’t all been a lie. He knew Harry still cared for him, _loved_ him even, so he did still at least have that in his favour. Still, it would be a monumental task, especially when Harry didn’t seem willing to listen to him for longer than five minutes.

_Then I shall have to speak without words._

Inspired, Severus hurried off, finally feeling as though he’d found his direction.

~*~

Severus stared at the canvasses before him. What he’d purchased in a fit of optimism now seemed to be proof of his inadequacies. He was no painter, and here he was, honestly thinking he could gift his work to a man who made his living with an easel. 

_”I just let my hand take over and go on from there.”_

Hesitantly, Severus pressed the brush against the canvas. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel Harry behind him, guiding his hand. 

_”It’s the most honest thing I know.”_

And what did Severus know about honesty? He spent years of his life as a spy, a double agent, no less. There had never been a single person in his life that he’d been entirely truthful with. And now he was seriously attempting to bare his soul through a painting. It was something permanent; for as long as this painting survived, anybody who viewed it would know precisely how Severus felt. 

It was a terrifying prospect.

But he needed to trust Harry that much. Because Harry at least knew him well enough to know that Severus wouldn’t take on a task such as this lightly. Perhaps that would be enough to convince him that Severus was sincere in his intent.

Seven hours later, Severus was nearly swaying with exhaustion, but he at least had two of his three paintings completed. They weren’t perfect, by any means. He certainly would never show them to anybody other than Harry. To be truthful, if the situation weren’t so dire, he might not even show them to Harry. 

But there they were.

He had decided on a series of three. The first was meant to illustrate his life before having Harry. Painted in blacks and greys, with splashes of the deepest reds, the painting was grim and desolate. Looking at it now, Severus was all too aware this would be the life he’d return to if Harry refused him. Likely even more bleak, as he’d tasted the joy of true romance, only to have it turn sour on his palate. 

The happiness he’d felt those few weeks with Harry was the subject of the second painting. Severus had chosen to work with greens on this painting. Once upon a time he associated the colour with his complex feelings towards his Hogwarts house, as well as with the horrors of the Killing Curse, but now it only reminded him of Harry’s eyes. And Harry’s eyes had been filled with so many exquisite emotions Severus had never thought would be directed towards him: love, lust, concern, joy. Severus couldn’t be certain what Harry would think when he saw this painting, but as for himself? He saw only love.

But it was the final canvas that was giving him difficulty. He’d meant this one to depict what he hoped for should he have a future with Harry. But how could he even begin? Severus had never thought in terms of forever; his life was simply a series of days he somehow managed to survive. Imagining a life with somebody he loved was simply too foreign of an idea to comprehend. Would it be like the second painting, but simply _more_? With even more hope, even more vague but thrilling possibilities? How could Severus even attempt to capture all the different directions their life together could take on a single canvas? A life with Harry, Severus knew, would never be dull. But as to what it would actually be _like_? He hadn’t a clue. 

Severus closed his eyes. This painting was critical. If he failed, he knew he would have lost. But he just couldn’t _see_.

Then, suddenly, he did.

~*~

“So, I hear you’ve been courting Harry.”

Severus glanced up at Weasley, who was leaning against the doorframe of his office. “Did you?”

“Sent him a couple paintings.” Weasley crossed his arms. “Personally, I don’t get it, but Harry seems pleased.”

Severus looked down at his desk. The parchment in front of him was blank, but Weasley didn’t need to know that. “Fortunately it is Harry I am attempting to please, not you.”

Weasley snorted. “You can say that again.”

“I won’t,” Severus replied, toying with a quill. “Is that all? I’m quite busy.”

“Come off it, Snape,” Weasley said. “We both know the biggest case you have now is that old man who insists his Kneazle is the one hexing the neighbourhood children.”

“Some of us care about the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy,” Severus drawled. 

“Merlin, you’re annoying,” Weasley said, entering the room. “I don’t know how Harry puts up with you.”

“Again, you’re not the one I’m attempting to please,” Severus said.

“Except that, in a way, you are.” Weasley sat down in the chair in front of Severus’ desk. “Because, like it or not, I’m Harry’s best mate. And if you’re in a relationship with somebody, it makes things a whole lot easier on everybody if you get along with the friends.”

“You’ve made it clear how you feel about me,” Severus said. “I haven’t changed, so I don’t expect your feelings towards me to either.”

“But the circumstances have changed,” Weasley said. 

“Not yet,” Severus admitted. “I still haven’t heard from Harry since sending him those paintings.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Weasley said. “They changed a while ago. I was just in denial.”

Severus arched a brow. “That’s a rather mature statement for you to make, Weasley.”

Weasley shrugged. “Maybe you’ve only been noticing Harry, but I’ve grown up a bit too.”

Silence fell. Severus tapped his desk, feeling as though he were missing some critical social cue. It was with a sudden clarity he realised that he needed all the help he could get in order to win Harry’s heart, and if Weasley was going to make an effort, he should as well. “I have. You are an… admirable Head Auror.”

Weasley grinned. “That didn’t hurt too much, did it?”

“Pain is all relative,” Severus said. 

“True enough.” Weasley leaned back in his chair. “Anyway, I just came by to say that if you and Harry decide to make a go of it, you have my blessing.”

Severus’ instinct was to snap at Weasley that he could shove his bloody blessing up his arse, but he stopped himself. “Why?” he asked instead.

Weasley sighed. “Harry’s been mad about you for years. Kind of creeped me out, to be honest. But this past month, he’s been the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Until he found out, of course. As much as I hated to seem him like that, I think that’s really what convinced me. Before I could write it off as just some weird infatuation with his old hero. But what I saw… that was love. Real, painful, heart-shattering love. And Harry doesn’t fall in love with just anybody.”

“You no longer believe I set out to seduce him just so I could have a good shag?”

Weasley, much to his credit, didn’t even bat an eye. “No. For one, if that were the case, you’d be jumping at the chance to be quit of him. But I saw how you looked when he was with Jacobi, and when you were holding him afterwards.” He sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it, that was love there.”

Severus nodded. “Thank you, Weasley.”

“Don’t mention it,” Weasley said. “Besides, sending him a pair of paintings? Didn’t realise you were a sodding romantic as well.”

“A third will be arriving this afternoon,” Severus said. His heart pounded at the thought of it. He was certain Harry wouldn’t be able to resist sending a response to it. Well, as certain as he could be with matters of the heart and Harry involved.

“Really?” Weasley asked, grinning. “Are you planning on one a day for the rest of the week?”

“No,” Severus replied. “Only three days’ worth.”

“That sure of yourself, eh?”

“I’m sure of nothing, Weasley.”

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you could stand to have a little more faith in yourself,” Weasley said, standing. “I’m sure Hermione and I will be having you two around for supper soon enough.”

“How charming,” Severus said.

“Just wait until you get around to holidays at the Burrow.”

Severus’ jaw dropped.

“That’s what happens when you’re family,” Weasley continued.

“I… Weasley. You…”

But Weasley only laughed as he headed out of Severus’ office. “Merlin, if I’d known the way to get you to shut up was to invite you to a family dinner, I’d have done it ages ago.” When he reached the door, he paused. “Mind if I fix the lighting in here? Always drove me mad when we had meetings in here.” Not waiting for a response, he took out his wand and aimed it at the lamp in the corner. “Apparently some relative of a thief placed a mild hex on our office a few years back. Simple enough to fix once you know the trick.” He grinned as the light in the office adjusted, finally illuminating the room properly. “See you later.”

Severus shook his head, feeling rather confused and overwhelmed.

But in this new, steady light, he was also slightly, _slightly_ more hopeful.

~*~

Severus couldn’t sleep. He’d sent the final painting to Harry by owl shortly after Weasley had left his office, but he still hadn’t heard anything. He hadn’t expected Harry to contact him immediately, but he thought he’d surely have heard something before the sun set. 

With a frustrated groan, Severus rolled out of bed and pulled on a loose robe. Being in his bed and staring at the ceiling wasn’t helping matters in the slightest.

He first made his way to his living room, where his easel was still set up. Painting for Harry had actually been quite therapeutic, and Severus could see why Harry used it as a way to clear his mind. However, at the moment the only thought on Severus’ mind was Harry, a simple thought that overwhelmed that he didn’t even know where to begin.

Harry clearly had one over him in that regard.

Resigned, Severus slipped on a pair of boots and headed outside. It was a clear, warm night. Perhaps he could simply walk until he was so exhausted he had no choice but to collapse on his bed.

He began to wonder what he would do if Harry never responded. He was so certain that this final message would do the trick, but what if he had entirely miscalculated? At what point did he simply give up? Severus was unaccustomed to taking the easy path and giving up, but he was far more familiar with failure than he’d care to admit. Besides, it wasn’t as though he could force Harry to be with him. 

Salazar, if he could just have a moment to talk with him, _really_ talk with him…

“Hello.”

Severus turned. There, before him, was Harry with his blasted pet dog. The sweet relief coursing through his veins was so overwhelming that Severus had to take a second to assure himself he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Hello, Harry,” he said. “Maggie.” The dog bounded up to greet him, the slobber now coating Severus’ hand very much assuring him this was no dream.

“I got your gifts,” Harry said. He didn’t move any closer to Severus, but his eyes were locked on his face. “They were incredible.”

Severus nodded. “Thank you. They’re nothing close to what you’re capable of, I’m afraid.”

“They’re perfect,” Harry said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stood still for a moment, the only sound Maggie’s occasional happy bark. Severus ached from the urge to reach for Harry, but he knew this was not his time. He had done his part for the moment. This was Harry’s decision. Harry needed to be in control.

“I didn’t understand the last one,” Harry said finally. “When I saw it was just a blank canvas, at first I thought you were mocking me, or that it was your way of saying it all _had_ actually been a lie, or perhaps that I was too late and you were giving up. But then I realised you never would have gone through all the work of doing the first two paintings if that were the case. Those kinds of paintings… they take a lot out of you. So, you wouldn’t… you weren’t lying.”

Harry didn’t phrase it as a question, but the tilt of his head and the anxious look in his eyes made it clear he was seeking confirmation.

“I wasn’t lying,” Severus said. “It is the most honest I’ve ever been.”

“Good,” Harry said. He coughed. “So, um, then what does it mean? Not that I don’t appreciate your vision,” he said hurriedly. “I’m just confused.”

“It’s what I wish our future to be,” Severus said. “A fresh start, with boundless limits. Every possibility open to us, our souls open, ready to take in anything the world has to offer us. Take in everything we have to offer each other. This canvas could be anything, anything in the world. That’s what makes it powerful. That’s what I wish for us.”

Harry’s lips parted as though he was about to say something, but he froze. He shook his head and again opened his mouth. Still nothing. He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Well, fuck,” he said. “How am I supposed to respond to that?”

“Any way you like,” Severus said, his heart pounding. “Preferably with the truth.” He drew a deep breath. “I assure you, I shan’t hold it against you if that is not how you see your own future.”

“You bloody idiot,” Harry said, and launched himself at Severus.

Severus held Harry close, his mind spinning with the sudden knowledge that even if he let go, Harry would still be embracing him. Kissing Harry was something that went beyond simple pleasure. It made Severus feel strong, powerful, important. He had been entrusted with the body, heart, and soul of Harry Potter, and it was a responsibility he would always take very, _very_ seriously.

“You’re amazing,” Harry breathed, running his hands down Severus’ back until they cupped his arse. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“Nor can I,” Severus admitted. He brushed Harry’s fringe away and pressed his lips to his scar. “I suspect it will take some time before I’m entirely convinced.”

“Does this help?” Harry asked, and ground his hips against Severus’ stiffening prick. 

“A bit,” Severus murmured, dropping his lips to Harry’s neck. “But you know what they say: seeing is believing.” 

“I believe I can make that happen,” Harry said. He raised his head, and for a second Severus was afraid their privacy had been interrupted. But instead he only called for Maggie and grabbed her by her lead. A second later, they were in Harry’s living room. 

“Not eager for another long walk?” Severus asked.

“Were you?” Harry grabbed a jar from the fireplace mantel and tossed Maggie a treat. “Come upstairs.”

“Are you planning on plying her with treats every time we have sex?” Severus asked, taking Harry’s hand and following him out of the room. “She’ll gain a stone in a fortnight.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Harry said, opening his bedroom door. “But I suppose I’ll have to finally send her to obedience school. She’s gotten a bit spoiled.”

“Well, she’s had your constant attention,” Severus said, pulling Harry’s shirt over his head. “Something that’s apt to go to one’s head.”

“Is that so?” Harry made quick work parting Severus’ robes, then pushed them off his shoulders. “Speaking from experience?”

“Perhaps.” Severus unzipped Harry’s flies and pushed his trousers down his hips, pushing him backwards until they reached the bed. When Harry fell back onto the mattress, he pulled Severus down with him. Severus took the opportunity to kiss him quite thoroughly, even as he helped divest Harry of the rest of his clothing.

“Are you starting to believe this is real yet?” Harry asked a little breathlessly. 

Severus leaned back and examined the view before him. It was a familiar sight, that of Harry aroused and waiting for Severus’ touch, but it seemed like so much _more_ tonight. Tonight there was nothing in between them – no secrets, no lies of omission, no threats of a madman and brainwashed followers. It made taking in Harry’s flushed face, his hard cock, and his vivid, lust-filled eyes all that much sweeter.

“I’m starting to,” Severus said. 

There would be plenty of nights to slowly explore each other’s bodies, taking their time to memorise every line and stretch of muscle, but Severus realised fairly quickly tonight would not be one of those nights. The very real fear of a life without Harry was still far too fresh in his memory, and he needed tonight to completely claim him as his own. Fortunately Harry seemed to be of a similar mindset, and was just as possessive and passionate with his touches.

It wasn’t long before Severus was once again sliding into Harry, savouring the hot tightness of his body. As much as he wanted to keep his gaze on Harry for every second of this rendezvous, he found the sensation was simply too much. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to steady himself. This was real. Oh, this was the very realest thing he’d ever known.

“I knew you’d come around,” Harry gasped. 

Severus leaned down and captured Harry’s mouth in a searing kiss. He hadn’t realised he’d spoken aloud. Before it might have made him uncomfortable, to be revealing his most private thoughts while he was quite literally entirely exposed. It didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. Harry knew all the important things anyway. This was no different.

“And I trust this feels real to you as well?” Severus asked, thrusting in hard.

“Oh, _yes,_ ” Harry said. “More.”

“More what?” Severus asked. “You’ll have to be specific.”

Harry whinged. “Severus…”

“I’m only attempting to please,” Severus said. He angled his hips slightly upwards and was rewarded with a low moan. 

“More of that,” Harry said. He began to stroke his cock in time with Severus’ thrusts. “Definitely more of that.”

“More” became a very frequent word to escape from Harry’s lips as Severus continued to pound in, accompanied also by “harder,” “please,” and “Severus.” Severus could feel himself losing control, as his thrusts grew faster and less rhythmic.

“Oh, fuck, Severus,” Harry said. “I can’t… need to come.”

“Yes,” Severus said, slamming in even harder. “Come for me. Come for me, Harry.”

“Yes! Severus!” Harry shouted, and shot his release. Severus followed not long after, calling out Harry’s name as he climaxed.

Panting, he carefully pulled out of Harry and took him into his arms. He rested his head on the top of Harry’s soft, sweaty hair, inhaling deeply to breathe in his unique scent.

“I missed that,” Harry said a long while later, when they had finally caught their breath. “I know it wasn’t really all that long, but I still missed it.”

“It could have been much longer,” Severus pointed out. “If you hadn’t been feeling so forgiving.”

“It was kind of hard not to after that display,” Harry said. “How can I not go falling in love with you all over again when you woo me with paintings and then added your words on top of them?”

Severus pulled Harry closer. “A lesser man would not have been so moved, I’m sure.”

“Well, then they’re idiots,” Harry said stubbornly. “But that’s lucky for me. I get you all to myself.”

“I doubt anyone would fight you on that,” Severus said. 

“Good,” Harry said. He pressed his lips to Severus’ chest. “Thank you again for the paintings. I know how much it must have taken you to send them to me.”

“It was important,” Severus said. Indeed, while he’d been terrified to mail them to Harry, it was even more terrifying to imagine a life without Harry. “You’ve entirely changed my life. I needed to make sure you knew exactly how I feel about you.”

“You did,” Harry said softly. 

Severus took a deep breath. “I love you, you realise.”

Harry smiled. “Yes, I think I caught on to that.”

“And you believe me?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry said, and pulled him in for another kiss.

~*~

“Where the devil are you taking us?” Severus asked. He and Harry had been walking along the southern coast of England for what seemed like hours. Maggie loved it, but Severus was growing tired, especially when he thought about the brilliant blow job he’d been planning on bestowing on Harry that afternoon. While the cliffs around them were quite striking, Severus was quite willing to explore them another day.

“You’ll see, “ Harry said. “Just a few more minutes.”

Severus sighed and resumed his brisk pace. He and Harry had been together for a little more than a year now, a year like none Severus had ever experienced before. He still wasn’t entirely used to having somebody care for him so much, to _love_ him so fiercely. Harry brought light and colour to his life, two things Severus had been resigned to spending the rest of his days without.

That wasn’t to say they didn’t argue. Harry never hesitated to tell Severus exactly what he thought about goings on at the Ministry, and Severus never hesitated to tell Harry he didn’t have a bloody clue what he was talking about. Severus still was not eager to visit the Weasleys for supper every week, and Harry had a tendency to grow nearly as grumpy as Severus when he was tired from revising for his Healer training. 

But they always came back to each other. On those nights when Severus thought perhaps he had grossly miscalculated and that he and Harry were destined to fail, those were the nights that Harry reached out and reminded him why they were so desperately important to each other. And when Harry grew depressed, brought down by the stress of starting a new career or by public scrutiny that he denied wore on him but Severus knew it so did, Severus was sure to utter those three precious words that still seemed entirely foreign on his tongue. _I love you._

And, of course, they painted. Even with his studies, Harry managed to remain a rather prolific artist. If anything, he painted even more than he had before. Harry said it was because he had more inspiration now that he was able to use all the colours. As for Severus, he knew his own skill would never compare, but he did enjoy working in the same room as Harry. It was a peaceful way to spend time together. 

All in all, it wasn’t a bad life. Not in the slightest.

“Okay. What do you think?”

Severus blinked. Before them was a large stone fronted cottage. It appeared to be a bit worn, with ivy creeping up the walls, but Severus couldn’t deny it had a certain welcoming charm about it.

“What is this?” he asked.

“I thought perhaps we could do with a house of our own,” Harry said. He was speaking quickly, something Severus had noticed he did whenever he was nervous. “You spend so much time at mine, which is fine, of course. But I thought perhaps it was time we took the next step and moved in together. The house needs a little work, but it’s got great windows and a lot of land, and we could personalise it to suit our needs. But only if you want to! No pressure.”

“Harry,” Severus said, and kissed him. Harry visibly relaxed. “It’s perfect.”

“Good,” Harry said, grinning. He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “Then there’s one more thing I want you to see.”

Severus entered the house and immediately knew what Harry was referring to. There, hanging above the fireplace, were the three paintings Severus had gifted to him so long ago – well, truthfully, two paintings and a blank canvas. He’d seen them before, of course. Harry kept them in his bedroom, hanging above his bed. Severus had caught him staring at them more than once. But it still took Severus’ breath away to see them in the main room of their house.

“Do you mind?” Harry asked. “I know they’re meant to be private, but they’re what truly brought us together. I thought they deserved to be hanging in the place of highest honour. But only if you’re okay with it.”

Severus nodded, feeling his throat grow suspiciously tight. “Thank you,” he said.

Harry wrapped his arm around Severus’ waist and rested his on his shoulder. “Of course. Seemed to be a crime to keep your masterpiece hidden away.”

Severus kissed the top of Harry’s head and glanced around their new home. Harry had been right about the windows – ample light strewn in from all angels, casting the house with an undeniably warm glow. Maggie was merrily chasing some invisible creature, and Severus had the sudden surprising thought that perhaps one day he and Harry would have a child chasing Maggie about in this very room. This room, which one day would be filled to the brim with colours and paintings and, of course, love.

Harry was right.

It truly was a masterpiece.

_Theirs._

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